


Hello, John

by MissMechanicalHeart



Series: John Wick [1]
Category: John Wick (2014)
Genre: Action, Alcohol, Blood, China Bryar, Death, Desire, Disowned, F/M, Gangs, Guns, Hotels, John Wick - Freeform, Knives, Language, Loss, Love, OC, Pencil, Rescue, Russian, Sexual Situations, Twisted love, Violence, Weapons, bunch of blood, clubs, mafia, on-the-run, safe-houses, waitressing, widower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-18
Updated: 2017-02-07
Packaged: 2018-07-24 19:15:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 29,766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7519954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMechanicalHeart/pseuds/MissMechanicalHeart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>China Bryar met the infamous John Wick when she was a little girl. Of course, she didn't realize that her father was friends with the "Boogeyman". Now twenty-six, China struggles to make ends meet while working at the Red Circle, rumored to be owned by a sector of the Russian Mafia. China struggles to prevail and stay so that she can gain insight on the where-abouts of her father. </p>
<p>     However, one night, China bumps into John Wick again, although the circumstances are that he's shooting up the very club she's working at.</p>
<p>     (Note: This story is rated M for mature. This work contains sexual situations, language, and violence. Also, I do not own John Wick. All I own is my plot and my characters that I have created.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lovely readers!
> 
> This is my second fan-fiction. I was re-watching John Wick the other day, and an idea hit me. Thus, this first chapter came to life. I am super excited to be starting this one because I've always loved action movies. I also adore Keanu Reeves. I mean, come on. Matrix, Constantine, and now John Wick. *Fans Self*
> 
> Songs for this chapter include "China Girl" by David Bowie and "Smokestacks" by LAYLA.
> 
> P.S: I know that most prologues aren't this long, but I had to get this chapter out, and it came out really long. Not all chapters are going to be this long, though.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> China Bryar met the infamous John Wick when she was a little girl. Of course, she didn't realize that her father was friends with the "Boogeyman". Now twenty-six, China struggles to make ends meet while working at the Red Circle, rumored to be owned by a sector of the Russian Mafia. China struggles to prevail and stay so that she can gain insight on the where-abouts of her father.
> 
> However, one night, China bumps into John Wick again, although the circumstances are that he's shooting up the very club she's working at.
> 
> (Note: This story is rated M for mature. This work contains sexual situations, language, and violence. Also, I do not own John Wick. All I own is my plot and my characters that I have created.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely readers!
> 
> This is my second fan-fiction. I was re-watching John Wick the other day, and an idea hit me. Thus, this first chapter came to life. I am super excited to be starting this one because I've always loved action movies. I also adore Keanu Reeves. I mean, come on. Matrix, Constantine, and now John Wick. *Fans self*
> 
> Songs for this chapter include "China Girl" by David Bowie and "Smokestacks" by LAYLA.
> 
> P.S: I know that most prologues aren't this long, but I had to get this chapter out, and it came out really long. Not all chapters are going to be this long, though.

 

          I remember the first time I ever met _him_.

          I was fourteen, and it was the weekend that I finally would get to go see my dad. I was so excited, for it was always something I looked forward to. My mother was a bit of what you would call a stoner and… Well, let’s just say she got around. Every now and again, I could escape all that. Going to my father’s place always provided that kind of escape.

          When I was younger, I always found it strange that the place he was staying at never stayed the same whenever I came. I could see him one week, and Dad would be living in an apartment; the next week, he would be living in a mansion. As I got older, I hardly thought anything about it anymore. He could be living in a dump for all I cared, as long as I got to escape my normal life.

          Dad was always what you might consider paranoid. I was always given strict instructions to never take a taxi. I also never received an address. Instead, I received a letter a month before I was to go to his house. It contained a password within the message, but I would always have to read between the lines. Dad could write several ways: a trait that I always admired. He would write in his original penmanship; when he changed the style, the message would be the first letter of the second word before the style changed and the process repeated. Dad taught me how to read it around the time I was learning to read (really helped with my reading scores).

          Once I figured out the password within the text, I would memorize it before shredding the letter. I always thought it was strange, but it was kind of fun. I would then catch a train and wait by an emergency phone. I would wait until someone approached me and say the password. If at some tried to snatch me or pull something, I was suppose to push the emergency button for dear life. But, fortunately, I had never had that happen.

          I never saw the same man twice, and I was never given a name. It was always someone different. Either way, whoever it was would mention the password before I would depart with him. They would then take me to the address.

          This time around, Dad was inhabiting a townhouse. I would have missed it if I hadn’t been directed to it. It seemed almost to camouflage with its atmosphere.

          The man dropped me off, and I retrieved my bag before exiting the car. I slowly walked up the steps with my bag in tow. I could hear the faint roar of the car’s engine behind me, but I didn’t turn around. Instead, I walked to the door and knocked.

          I waited several moments, trying to suppress my excitement and nervousness. I felt almost like a Chihuahua. I heard the deadbolts on the door sliding on the other side. Pulling my bag closer to me, I swallowed my excitement.

          The door finally opened, revealing a man that seemed like he was in his fresh twenties. He looked younger than Dad. There were no signs of gray in his black hair that was pushed back from his forehead in little spikes. I remember being simply amazed by his hair. His height was intimidating, too. What I was amazed by most of all, though, was his eyes.

          I couldn’t tell if I was scared or awed by his eyes. They were brown (yes, I know it’s an ordinary color). However, it wasn’t the color; it was the way they looked at me. It seemed as if he was trying to figure out every secret I had in my short fourteen years of life. What’s worse is that his gaze made me want to tell him every single thing I had ever done.

          Finally, he somewhat released me from his gaze as he raised a brow. “May I help you?”

          For a moment, I just stood there. I either forgot my purpose or forgot how to speak. My lips finally parted before closing and repeating the process. “Um… is Marcus here?”

          He stared at me as if I had two heads. I almost considered checking if I still had just one. Never looking away from me, he tilted his head slightly to project his voice over his shoulder.

          “Did you order Girl Scout cookies?”

          I heard some mumbling down the hall before I heard an agitated voice. “What the hell are you talking abo-”

          My Dad’s voice never finished the statement as his eyes landed on me. The excitement came back, and I wanted nothing more than to jump in my Dad’s arms and tell him about everything that had happened.

          “China,” he said, coming closer. He looked behind me as if something was going to jump out of the bushes. “When did you get here?”

          “Just now.”

          He tugged me in. “Well, come on. Get inside,” he said, closing and bolting the door behind me.

          The man was still there; his eyes switching between Dad and me as he seemed to be piecing pieces of a puzzle together. He finally tilted his head slightly as if he came to a conclusion.

          “Marcus,” he murmured, clearing his throat.

          Dad seemed to snap out of something, for he quickly stepped closer to me, almost as if he was presenting and shielding me. “Ah, right. This is… uh. This is China… my daughter.”

          The man tilted his head to the side. His brown, piercing eyes studied me. “China,” he murmured in a voice that almost sounded as if he doubted what my dad was telling him.

          “China, this is John. He’s… going to be staying here for awhile.”

          That same shy feeling where I felt that I couldn’t speak hit me again. I finally managed words. “Nice to meet you,” I whispered.

          His lips barely parted as he said, “Likewise.” His eyes returned to my dad as soon as he finished his statement.

          My shoulders slumped for some reason I couldn’t understand.

          “I’m guessing our plans for tonight are cancelled, then,” John stated.

          I looked back up at my dad. It was almost as if he and John had some kind of silent conversation for a moment.

          “We’ll discuss this later.” Dad looked down at me. “Let’s get you settled in.” He led me towards the stairs.

          “You won’t mind being demoted to the couch, would you, John?” my dad called from the top of the stairs.

          “I can feel the springs already,” John muttered from downstairs.

          My dad and I shared a grin before he twisted a doorknob to where I assumed I would be sleeping. The bed was three times the size of the one I had at home. It was covered in a gray bed suit. There was a lamp in the corner of the room that was about my height. Finally, there was a bedside table beside the bed. And, that summed up the average room at Dad’s house.

          “I’ve been meaning to actually set you up a room. Have you decorate one and all, but moving is like clockwork,” he said as he examined the naked walls.

          I shook my head. “It’s fine, Dad. Thank you,” I said, setting my bag down.

          He gave me a small smile as he leaned against the door frame with his arms crossed. “So, I’m thinking about ordering pizza. Maybe you can make some cookies? Your cookies get better every time you come.”

          I rolled my eyes with a smile. “Daaaad. You hate sweets.”

          “I hate the average sweets, but yours are special.”

          I beamed. “Alright. Do you have the stuff?”

          “It’s all ready for ya.”

          “Alright. Pizza and cookies. What about your friend?”

          “He can eat with us, or he can go find his own. Personally, I don’t know if I want to share your cookies with him.”

          “Ah, Dad. We can’t be rude to your guest.”

          He playfully sighed. “Alright. He can have a half of one. If I’m feeling generous, I’ll give him a full one.”

          A giggle escaped my lips.

          “Alright. I’ll go order the pizza.”

          After my dad left, I sat there and went through my bag. I had brought several changes of clothes, even though I would only be staying here for two or three days. Still, a part of me always hoped that I could stay longer. I grabbed the latest Sherlock Holmes book that I had been reading at the time and started downstairs.

          On my way down, I heard John’s voice. I slowed my steps and found myself eavesdropping on the conversation.

          “I thought you were staying off the radar.”

          “I am, but it has been almost four months since I saw her.”

          “So what. Surely, you’re not her only parent.”

          There was silence. “John, her mother… She barely even registers her own existence, much less her own daughter’s.”

          Another round of silence. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up anything. It’s just… You told me about all of the rules that come with this life. Yet, here you are, trying to play the role of the father of the year.”

          “John,” my dad’s voice held a hint of a warning.

          “You’ve got to see that she’s a liability, Marcus. If you’re not willing to give her up to save yourself, then at least think of her safety.”

          “A liability?” My dad’s tone was incredulous. I could hear a scoff. “You know, John. I really hope you don’t have to hear that statement one day when you’re forced to think about someone that you love more than anything in the world.”

          The only sound I could hear was the very sound of my own breathing.

          “Look, Marcus. I just… I don’t want something to happen. You know this game; you’ve been in it far longer than I have.”

          “Enough,” my dad finally said. “I’m gonna go order this damn pizza,” he said under his breath. I heard his footsteps retreat as they traveled to somewhere else in the house.

          There was silence, and I thought that John had left, too. However, just as the thought registered my mind, I heard his voice. “You can come out.”

          There was no way he could’ve heard me. Did I make a creak on the staircase? Did I breathe too loudly?

          Hesitantly, I stepped out and joined him at the ground floor. I didn’t meet his eyes as I took interest in my feet and the book in my hand. What was I suppose to say? Thanks for telling my dad he should practically disown me and never see me again?

          “Sherlock, huh?”

          I jerked my head up with a puzzled look.

          He pointed at the book.

          “Oh… yeah,” I murmured, turning my eyes back down to the floor.

          “So, uh… I heard you can make good cookies.”

          I shrugged.

          There was another round of silence. I wanted to scurry on, but something made me stay rooted to the spot.

          “Are you a big Sherlock fan?”

          I lifted my eyes slightly before nodding. “Since I’ve never figured out what Dad does, I like to think he’s like Sherlock. You know, solving crimes and stuff.”

          John lips thinned as he seemed to be pondering on whether he should say something. “I would say your father’s more of the Pied Piper. Then again, he can use maneuvers like Sherlock, so I guess that could fit.”

          My brows furrowed. “Pied Piper? Is Dad an exterminator?”

          John cracked a smile but shook his head. “I guess you could say that.”

          “Oh.” I didn’t have anything else to say. There was more silence, but he didn’t make a move to leave. “Mr. John?” I started, hesitantly raising my eyes to his.

          “Should – will my dad really let me go?”

          Unblinking, he bent down slightly to my level. “Look, I didn’t mean he should. I just thought it was rather… I thought it would be the right thing for your father to do so that both of you could be safe.”

          “Safe from what?” I whispered.

          Before he could answer, my dad’s voice interrupted the conversation. “John, why don’t you go and pick up the pizza since I’m incognito.” It was more of a command that a suggestion.

          John pinched his lips together, turning his gaze away from me. “Alright.” He turned away from me, grabbed his leather jacket and keys, and left.

          I just stood there for awhile with my eyes trained on the spot he had just left. His words rolled around in my head as I tried to decipher what he meant.

          “Ready to bake, master chef?” My dad announced, coming into the space that I was in.

          My lips cracked into a smile as I nodded excitedly.

          About fifteen minutes later, our aprons and parts of our clothes were covered in flour. My dad acted almost as if we were performing surgery. I would say butter, and he would quickly fetch it. About halfway into the baking time, my dad had switched on the radio.

          At that time, a familiar tune came on the radio. I had heard it several times throughout my life. My dad would actually sing it to me when I was younger. It was “China Girl” by David Bowie.

          My dad flashed me a grin. “Coincidence? I think not.”

          I watched my dad dance around the kitchen, slinging the dish towel over his shoulder and grabbing a spatula just in time to catch the lyrics.

          “ _I could escape this feeling with my China girl_ ,” my dad began, trying to pull a David Bowie voice.

          A giggle escaped my lips as I continued to watch him dance around the room. When the instrumental break came in, he offered me his hand and began to dance with me, saying, “Take it away!”

          My dad twirled me around before we parted to freestyle. Gosh, we probably looked like a couple of goofballs, but we didn’t care.

          “And when I get excited, my little China girl… says,” he began before holding the microphone between us. At the same time, we chanted, “Oh baby, just you shut your mouth!”

          “She said…”

          “Shhhhhh.”

          The guitar solo began at the same time that I noticed John leaning against the door frame. His eyes seemed amused as he watched my dad and me dance around like idiots. My cheeks became warm suddenly, and I stopped. As the song came to an end, the timer went off.

          “Well, I guess that’s dinner.” He did a mock bow before turning to John. “Oh, hello, John. You missed the performance.”

          John masked his face. “I think I saw the best part,” he murmured, placing the pizza on the counter.

          My dad clapped his hands together. “Alright. Let’s eat.”

          That night, I had gone to bed. I slept for several hours before I found myself restless. I couldn’t go back to sleep, so I opted to go get some water. I pushed the covers off, hopped out of bed, and tiptoed down the stairs.

          Upon making it to the den, I relaxed a little, but it was short lived.

          “Running off, are we?”

          The low voice made the hairs on the back of my neck stand straight up. I turned around to see John sitting in one of the armchairs. His legs were stretched out in front of him, and his arms were placed on the armrests.

          “I couldn’t sleep,” I explained.

          He tilted his head. “Do you do that often? Wake up in this middle of the night?”

          “Sometimes,” I finally answered, although the word was tainted with my lie.

          “You’re lying.”

          I didn’t speak. “What about you? Do you have trouble sleeping?” I asked, turning his question on him.

          “All the time.”

          The statement hung in the air for awhile before I opted to change the subject. “Is my dad asleep?”

          His lips thinned again. I was beginning to think that was his sign whenever he was thinking. “He stepped out for a moment.”

          “Out?”

          “He had to run some errands.”

          “What kind of errands?”

          “So, as you can obviously tell, I was unaware that Marcus had any… offspring.” He tilted his head. “How old are you?”

          “Fourteen.”

          “Interesting.”

          “How old are you?” I asked.

          “Me?”

          I nodded.

          That spark of amusement flashed in his eyes again. “I am twenty-three.”

          “You seem… older yet younger.”

          His lips pulled into a smirk. “So do you.”

          For some reason, I felt my cheeks warm again. It’s not as if he was implying anything, but I still casted my eyes to the ground.

          “So, Mr. John. Do you have a last name?”

          Single nod. “I do.”

          I waited in silence, but he never did elaborate, so I let the subject go.

          “Do you go by your father’s last name?”

          I tilted my head. “I don’t think it’s quite fair for me to answer a question and you not.”

          He studied my face for a moment. “Very well. It’s Wick.”

          “Like the candle?”

          Single nod.

          “To answer your question, no. My birth certificate took my mother’s last name, Bryer.”

          “Might I ask why?”

          I pursed my lips. “I didn’t meet my father until I was three. My mother never cared for my father, and he wasn’t aware of my existence until she needed support.”

          “I see. I’m sorry to hear that.”

          The room grew quiet once more. Still standing by the door, I began to feel out of place, as if I was intruding on him. Silly, I know.

          “Well, Mr. Wick, thank you for your company,” I spoke, inclining my head towards the door.

          “Likewise,” he murmured, studying my face.

          I was almost tempted to stay, but I forced myself up the stairs.

          There were several other encounters with Mr. Wick. I would go back to Dad’s when I could. Sometimes John was there; sometimes he wasn’t. There were small encounters between Mr. Wick and me.

          I grew older. I developed. As I became older, I realized that the less I saw of John, the more I wished to see him. I told myself it was nothing more than a stupid, silly crush.         

          In school, everyone always told me I was popular with guys, but I honestly didn’t try. I didn’t see it, either. I always saw it as I had a lot of guy friends. Anyway, one in particular was Sam. I saw him as nothing more than a friend, but people always said that he desired me.

          Either way, he did end up walking me to the station. Dad had given me instructions to go to the station. I wouldn’t be taking a train; I would just be picked up here.

          “So, what’s the deal with your dad?” Sam asked, walking beside me with his hands in his pockets. He had asked to carry my bags so many times, but I told him I had it.

          “Um, he has to move a lot with his job.”

          “Ah. That must suck not being able to stay in one particular place. It must be harder on you.”

          I shook my head with a smile. “No, not at all. I could care less about it.”

          I put my bags down and hopped up onto the island. I balanced myself on the edge before dodging around the pillar.

          “Do you get to spend much time with your dad?” he asked, still on the ground as he walked next to me.

          “Sometimes. It depends on his work schedule.”

          “I bet that really puts a damper on things,” he said, his voice shifting.

          I circled another pillar and found myself face to face with Sam. Our faces were only inches apart. He looked into my eyes with him brown ones, and I realized that he kind of looked like-

          Someone cleared their throat. I quickly looked up to find John standing there. His eyes were set directly on me, and I instantly felt the urge to explain myself. I backed away from Sam and grabbed my bag.

          Sam stepped forth with his hand outstretched. “Hi, nice to meet you, dude. I’m Sam.”

          John didn’t even look at Sam. His gaze was kept on me. “Time to go,” he stated.

          With that he began to walk away. I watched him leave before turning to Sam. “Thanks for walking me here. See ya.” I waved before rushing to catch up.

          I finally managed to catch up to him. “Did Dad send you?” I asked.

          No answer.

          “Password?” I tried again.

          He came to the car and opened my car door, gesturing for me to get in.

          “Mr. Wick?”

          He leaned in and through clenched teeth muttered,. "Get in the car.”

          My heart sped up as he slammed the door behind me. I quickly buckled my seatbelt before he got in. He slammed his keys into the ignition and took off. His driving was absolutely scary. The Mustang was being pushed to top speeds. My nails dug into the armrest as I willed the car to slow down.

          “Mr. Wick?”

          No answer. I think he even switched to a faster gear.

          By the time we came to the location, I practically rolled out of the car with a strong desire to kiss the ground. John took my bag and started towards the farm house. When I saw farm house, I mean it was literally on a farm. There were animals, a barn, and the whole get-up. It did seem rather peaceful, though, for I saw a pond in the distance with many trees surrounding it.

          I walked in and found John waiting in the doorway. “Is Dad not here?”

          “He’s out. He won’t be here until tomorrow. Come on. I’ll show you to your room.”

          He took me to a room in the back and showed me a room with a wooden bed. It was rather spacious – too spacious, actually. John dropped the bag on the bed, his eyes looking anywhere but at me.

          “Umm… thank you. Do you want me to make anything?”

          He shook his head, starting towards the door. “I’ll just order something.”

          “Oh… ok,” I whispered.

          For most of the rest of the day, John stayed out in the barn. I eventually braved myself to go outside after the delivery guy had left. I pulled my coat back on and inhaled the fall air; it was honestly heavenly.

          I kept on until I reached the barn. From a distance, I could hear wood splitting. I pondered on whether I should knock or just go in. In the end, I popped my head through the door. On the other side, I found John hacking away at wood.

          I ventured further into the room with our food, but he still didn’t seem to notice me – or he didn’t care to notice. I set our food down on a make-shift table and found myself just watching. Finally, I found my voice.

          “Mr. Wick?”

          Chop.

          “Mr. Wick?”

          Chop.

          “Mr. Wick?”

          He finally looked up, the ax poised on his shoulder. His hair was slightly damp.

          I held up the bagged food. “Delivery,” I said with a small smile. I began to take out the food. “I thought I would join you for dinner.”

          “I was just going to eat out here.”

          I briefly wondered if he was trying to get away from me. Nevertheless, I shook it off. “That’s fine. It’s nice out anyway.”

          He pulled up two stools to the so-called table, giving me the higher-up stool because of my height. A smile spread to my lips. “Thanks. And thanks for the food, too.”

          He shrugged. “I didn’t know what you would like.”

          I took a peek inside of the box. I wasn’t that picky. To my surprise, he had gotten me chicken and rice, which was what I usually got. Then again, it was probably what everyone got. “You did well,” I said, attempting to use the chopsticks. Of course, though, I had to end up eating with the plastic fork instead.

          John had watched me struggle with the chopsticks. Meanwhile, he effortlessly ate his food with his chopsticks. Suddenly, he held up his chopsticks, poised in position.

          “Try again.”

          I picked up my chopsticks and tried to set my fingers just as he did. However, I ended up screwing it up.

          “Like this.” He reached over and adjusted my ring finger and middle finger. A feeling of butterflies fluttering in my stomach hit me when his warm fingers brushed over mine, but all too quickly he retracted his hand once he had set the chopsticks.

          I lowered it to the rice, managing to get some of it before lifting it to my mouth. Of course, I dropped a bit of the rice, but I got the majority of it. I smiled at my small accomplishment. “Tada,” I murmured, surprised that I could keep the hand position.

          John lifted his drink to his lips. “Indeed.”

          We sat their eating in silence for the longest time. Suddenly, John spoke up.

          “So, that was your… boyfriend, right?”

          It took me a moment to understand what he was talking about. “Oh, Sam?” I shook my head. “Sam is… He’s just a friend.”

          “He seems quite taken to you.”

          I shook my head. “We’re just friends.”

          “Is he aware of your feelings?”

          “Well, no, but I thought-”

          “You thought he would take the hint,” he finished.

          My lips parted, but I didn’t say anything. Instead, I lowered my eyes. “I’ll just take everything in. Thanks again for the company and everything,” I said, picking up the plates.

          John didn’t stop me, but it seemed that I could feel his eyes trained on me. I didn’t stop until I got inside. I disposed of everything and went upstairs. For the longest time, I waited upstairs and read.

          When the sun began to set, I decided that I might as well get a shower. Stripping out of my clothes, I pulled on my bathrobe and took all my soaps and a change of clothes with me. I padded downstairs and found it completely quiet. John wasn’t anywhere in sight; I even checked to see if the barn light was on.

          Shrugging, I wandered around, trying to remember where I saw the bathroom. I had a glance at the shower earlier, and gosh was it heavenly-looking. It was a walk-in shower that was built into the stone walls.

          I walked into the dimly lit bathroom, taken off-guard by the sound of the low hum of the fan. I left my clothes on the counter, took my needed soaps, and grabbed a rag from the closet. A divider was set in the middle of the room to divide the shower from the rest of the room. I walked around it coming to the entrance of the walled-in shower. I turned around to fully enter the shower, but I froze at what stood before.

          Facing away from me was John with the water cascading down his body. The muscles underneath the tattooed skin of his back shifted as he ran a hand through his dark, soaked hair that clung to his head.

          I studied the tattoos on his back. Between his shoulder blades, he had one that read _Fortis Fortuna Adiuvat._ I could tell it was Latin, I just didn’t know what it meant. A howling wolf face was on his right shoulder blade, and what seemed to be a flaming hand was on his left shoulder. Below the phrase was a cross with two clasped hands that were in praying position.

          Apparently, I had inhaled too deeply – enough to earn his attention. He glanced over his shoulder, twisting his body slightly. I forced my eyes to go no lower than the cross on his left shoulder. His hair was slicked back, and his stubble was more prominent in the lighting. Of course, my traitorous eyes slipped, but only for a millisecond.

          My eyes quickly flicked back up to his brown ones. One moment they seemed surprised as they landed on me, but he made no move to cover himself. The next moment, his eyes became hooded as they ran across my bathrobe-covered body. I clutched the bottles of soap closer.

          I remember standing before him. In a blink of an eye, though, I found myself beneath him; the bottles of soap slipped from my grasp and landed somewhere at the entrance. The water momentarily blinded me as I felt it cascading over my face; my hair was instantly soaked. I gazed up at John, my heart hammering against my chest. His eyes were so dark, and I was honestly a little terrified.

          “Mmm – Mr. Wick?” I stuttered out.

          “With those eyes of yours,” he began as hovered over me, holding himself up by his hands that were braced by both sides of my head. “You tempt me so. Leading me on just like… that boy,” he growled near my ear before nipping my earlobe.

          My breathing escalated with just the simple action. A cruel smirk spread across his lips, and I started to squirm beneath him. Before I knew it, he pressed his lips to mine. The movements started out slow before becoming frantic, almost as if he were devouring my lips. I struggled to keep up, having to quickly learn and follow his example.

          His tongue fought for dominance against mine. Water droplets became caught on our lips after they had fallen from our faces. The ones on mine hardly got a chance to stay before John would collect them with his mouth as he gently licked my lips.

          I didn’t understand why I was kissing him back. I didn’t understand why I was allowing him to do this. I didn’t even understand why _he_ was doing this. Still, there was a part of me that reveled in this, and I couldn’t hold it back any longer.

          John’s fingers slipped between our bodies, slowly pulling at the tied knot of my bathrobe. He then pushed the top of the robe to the side, baring my torso to him. Under his hungry gaze, I started to fold my arms over my chest, but he quickly hindered my movements, pinning my hands above my head with just one hand.

          He shook his head. “Don’t hide from me,” he commanded in a low rasp, gazing down into my wide eyes. With the intensity of his gaze, all I could manage was a nod.

          His other hand trailed along what was exposed of my stomach before cupping one of my breasts. An involuntary gasp left my lips, and before I could recover, his lips descended to my other breast. I felt his warm mouth against my goose-bumped covered skin, sending more chills along my skin. His tongue danced across the sensitive flesh.

          I wanted to touch his skin. I needed to be closer to him, but I didn’t know how. I tried to pull my hands free, and he finally relented. Once my hands were free, I plowed my fingers through the damp strands of his hair. He returned his lips to my mouth, and my hands inched down to his back, running my nails gently up his spine.

          His other free hand slithered between us again as he ran his callous fingers ran up my thigh to reach the bottom of my soaked bathrobe. He began to gather the material, balling the material in his fist to push it pass my hips. Between our furious kissing, I begged him, “Please.”

          Suddenly his hand froze its movements. He pulled away from my lips, looking down at me. “You don’t even stop me. You really are a foolish girl,” he whispered, almost as if he was talking to himself.

          I blinked in surprise at his words. “Mr. Wick?”

          “Just… stop.” He shook his head, pulling away from me, casting his eyes away from me. “It was a test and a lesson. You lead men on without even knowing. If you’re not careful, they’ll take anything you give them. Just as I did.”

          I was at a loss of words. One of the greatest moments of my life was shattering before my very eyes. I pulled my drenched robe to my body the best I could. I was suddenly cold, despite the warm water. I stared down at the bathroom floor, my eyes becoming watery all of a sudden, but I pretended it was just the shower droplets.

          “Oh,” I whispered with a thick throat.

          There was no response from John – no other explanation. I slowly stood on shaky legs and went around the divider. I shucked off the robe and tossed it into the sink. Shivering, I reached for a towel and began to dry myself up. I could care less about the shower now. I just wanted to get out of there. I grabbed another robe off the racks and pulled it on and cinched it tightly.

          Still fighting the tears, I slipped out the door as I heard the water finally turning off. Once I was out the door, I let the tears finally fall, but no sobs left my lips. I was too proud to let them.

          I came to the staircase and started to head upstairs when a hand suddenly clasped over my mouth, ceasing any screams that tried to escape my lips. I instantly began to thrash against my captor. I felt someone’s breath against my ear as they gave a throaty laugh. I tensed with fear when I recognized the laugh.

          “China, China. I just couldn’t wait any longer.”

          Sam.

          “Ah. You’ve figured me out.” I felt his head turn and noticed several other men in my peripheral vision. “Go find her Pops.”

          It was several minutes, and there was still no sign of the men’s return. In fact, the house was surprisingly quiet. For crying out loud, where was John?! The only one that seemed to notice was me, for Sam was slightly preoccupied with feeling up my body. If I could just free my hand…

          “You know, China. I’ve always had a thing for you, even though I was sent to kill your dad.”

          My eyes widened. Why would he want to kill my dad?

          “Still, that doesn’t mean I have to kill you. I mean, can you blame me,” he started, sliding his hand over my breasts. A wave of nausea hit me, and I instinctively thrashed against him but to no avail. “You have killer curves and tits any guy would kill to touch. And, just a look in your eyes…” He trailed off, wrapping a fistful of my hair around his knuckles before pulling it. “Just makes me want to fuck you on the spot.”

          I growled against his hand, and he chuckled. “I might be tempted to do it if the others don’t return soon with your Pops,” he murmured, slipping his hand into the top of my robe. I squirmed against him.

          “I’m afraid he’s out on business right now.” My heart escalated at the sound of the voice.

          Sam turned with me in his grasp, so that I was then looking at John. His hair was still damp, and he was only in a pair of sweatpants. I noticed that spots of red stained his bare torso and his pants. John didn’t return my gaze. He simply kept his cold stare on Sam.

          “You’re the guy from earlier.”

          John shook his head. “No, I’m just the babysitter for tonight.”

          “Pity. Where are my men?”

           “Bedroom. It’s a bit of a mess in there, though,” he warned, gesturing towards his pants.

           “I see,” Sam muttered. “Well, I hate to be rude, but I must go. If her old man pops by, tell him that I have his daughter.”

          John stepped forth, holding a gun. “Sorry. I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

          Sam sighed. “Fine. Then, I can just leave you as the message.” Sam’s hold on me tightened. I then heard a gun click before it was pressed against my temple. “Or I can leave his daughter. Your choice. Although, personally, I really don’t want to kill this one.”

          John didn’t move. He didn’t lower his gun. In fact, he clicked it, aiming it directly behind me.

          Sam scoffed. “Well, I guess I was wrong about you, dude.” He pressed the barrel against my head again, and I flinched, pleading John with my eyes to do something.

          “I’ll give you to the count of three to drop your weapon, or her brains will be on this floor.”

          I began to panic, fidgeting in Sam’s hold.

          “One.”

         John didn’t move.

          “Two.”

          Still no movement. I realized I would have to take matters into my own hands. Mustering up everything in me, I sunk my teeth into Sam’s hand, refusing to let up until I tasted blood.

          There was a gunshot as I was released, and I thought for sure I had been shot, for I felt a powerful force rattle through me. In a blink, I was tugged to my feet. I glanced up to find John holding me as he looked down at Sam’s dead body.

          “Three,” he muttered.

           He turned to me. “You ok?”

           I gave a shaky nod. "W-what was that about?"

           John didn't answer. "I'm afraid it's not my place to tell you," he whispered, lowering his hand to wipe a trace of Sam’s blood from my lips. For a moment, I forgot that I was upset with him as his brown eyes briefly flickered with something… soft.

          “See what kind of people you’re leading on?”

          And, just like that, the spell was broken. I blinked before slowly untangling myself. I looked away from John.

         “Thanks.”

         I heard him exhale slowly through his nose. “Go get cleaned up. I’ll take care of all of this.”

         I remember feeling so conflicted that night. John was right, though. I practically opened myself to him. Still, I couldn’t forgive him for what he did, whether he was teaching me a lesson or whatever.

         He watched over me that night, sitting in my room with me all through the night. I hardly got a lick of sleep. One reason was because of my thoughts. The second reason was that the source of all my thoughts was watching over me.

          I came up with one conclusion, though. I did desire John Wick. It was such a strong emotion that I didn’t know what to do with; I didn’t know how to address it. But, I knew for sure that I would harbor it. I would bury it deep down until it would hopefully one day… go away.


	2. Night One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first chapter of Hello, John. It's shorted than the prologue, I know. I want to thank whoever it might be that is reading this. Song used for this chapter is "Resonate" by Avec Sans.

         

         “Hard Vodka,” I called out, delivering the drink to the right table.

          I felt a smack to my butt as the man called out, “Thanks, sweet cheeks.”

          I bit the inside of my cheek, trying my best to refrain from throwing the next drink I had to deliver in his face. _I need this job, I need this job, I need this job._ Inhaling deeply, I kept on. I placed the drinks on the table that belonged to a group of women that were here for a bachelorette party. The women were way too drunk to tell which end was which as they giggled loudly and screamed back-stories before downing their next set of drinks.

          Fortunately, my shift for the night was just about over. In the last remaining minutes, I did my own little routine of checking up on everyone. I usually tried to find underage kids or women that were too drunk to realize they were being taken advantage of. Sure enough, I managed to find a teenage girl passed out on the couch. Another teen boy was feeling her up while she just half-consciously laid there.

          “Hey, beat it!” I called, tugging the teen off of the girl.

          The teen, who was a couple of inches taller than I, snarled at me. “This is my girl. How ‘bout you butt out?”

          I took a glance at the girl. “If that’s the case, then I’m sure she’ll allow you to continue this when she’s conscious. In the meantime, I’m calling her a cab.”

          “Who the fuck do you think you are, lady?” the man growled, violating my personal space.

          I ignored him and began to move the girl in a sitting position. I grabbed her hand and gently grabbed the roll of skin on the back of her hand. A frown grew on my lips as the skin took its time to return back to normal.

          I was suddenly seized by my upper arm. “Hey, I’m talking to you!”

          “Sir, I would advise you to release me,” I said in a calm voice.

          The teen smirked. “Or what?”

          “Is there a problem here?”

          I turned around to find the son of the club’s owner standing with his right-hand man behind him.

          “What’s it to you?” the teen asked.

          Ioseph’s right-hand man popped the teen on the back of the head. “Watch your tongue, or I’ll cut it out.”

          Ioseph glanced at the teen, which was interesting, considering Ioseph wasn’t really that tall. “You put your hand on her, no?”

          “My girl? Yeah-”

          “I’m not talking about her. I’m talking about my waitress.”

          I internally cringed when he said that.

          “I just-”

          Ioseph shook his head. “That’s where you fucked up. Now, get out of my club.”

          The teen looked like he was about to protest, but then he saw the right-hand pop his knuckles and thought better of it. “Whatever, man. This club blows anyway.”

          I turned to the girl. “I’ll just hail a cab with her; see if I can find out where she lives.”

          “Doan worry about it,” he said.

          I couldn’t believe what he said. “My shift’s over. It’s no trouble.”

          “We’ll put her in one of the rooms upstairs.”

          “But, that costs money.”

          Ioseph shrugged. “She’ll manage. Surely if she doesn’t have the money, then she can find other methods to pay.”

          Nausea hit me. “I insist.”

          “Well, you see that won’t work. I’m extending your shift because I want you as my own personal… server.” I noticed the way he had to think of the last word, almost as if he was tempted to say something else.

          My lips parted. “Mr. Tarasov-”

          “Ioseph,” he corrected.

          “With all due respect, I must…”

          He quirked a brow. “Yes, Miss. Priar?”

          _I need this job. I need this job. I need this job._

          “Alright,” I finally murmured in defeat.

          His lips curled. “Excellent. We’ll be in our room.”

          “Same as per usual?” I asked, readjusting my ponytail.

          He winked. “You know it.”

          Suppressing my uneasiness, I began to fetch the drinks. All the while, I reminded myself of my motives.

          I should explain my motives. After that little incident with Sam when I was sixteen, my father finally took _his_ advice and cut all contact with me. Consequently, I was forced back to my mom’s. I had left after she was back on her drug-spree, changing my name in the process. A week later, she and her boyfriend were murdered. The papers thought that I had been kidnapped, and since I had changed my name and after the Sam ordeal, I kept it that way. It seemed safer that way because it was kind of ironic that all of this happened less than two weeks after Sam’s death.

          So, at the fresh age of sixteen, I was out on my own. I managed to work at several food industries before I was laid off. I finally found my way here. Of course, I lied about my age, and I changed my last name to Priar – big change, I know. But, that was about ten years ago – same number of years since I’ve seen my dad… or _him_.

          Anyway, the first time I met Ioseph was when his dad accompanied him to the club. I had just turned seventeen some time back, and Ioseph instantly took a fascination to me. Consequently, I unofficially met his father. He was an older gentleman, probably just a little older than my dad. He had a slightly different accent than Ioseph, even though I’m pretty sure they’re both Russian. Nevertheless, as I was serving drinks, I heard him speaking of some kind of assignment to the dude that is always everywhere with him. During the conversation, I heard my dad’s name being mentioned several times.

          On several occasions, I would hear him say. “I wish Wick was still in the business.” He would shake his head, taking a sip of his drink. “They don’t make them like that anymore.”

          I was snapped to the present when Ioseph waved me down from his table. I quickly began to set all the drinks up in front of him and his guests. Ioseph grabbed my arm before I could scurry off.

          “Sit.”

          “I’m on duty.”

          “You’re with me.”

          “But-”

          “I insist,” he said, but it sounded more of a command.

          Quietly releasing a sigh, I took a seat. Unfortunately, someone had already claimed the seat across him. As a result, I had to set directly next to him.”You know,” he said, sliding closer to me. “I have to leave later to finish some business for my father. I may not be back for awhile.”

          I didn’t reply. A flicker of a frown claimed his lips before he smirked. “So, you best be a good girl, alright?”

          I nodded. “Mr. Tarasov?”

          He pulled back from his drink. “Ioseph,” he corrected.

          I would never call him by his first name. “I really must be going. I do hope you have a safe trip, though.” I began to leave, but my wrist was snatched by him before I could get far.

          His eyes darkened for a moment before they returned to their normal color. He forced a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Remember now. Be a good girl.”

          I gave a shaky nod, keeping my chin up. “I’ll do my best to remember.”

          Prying my wrist from his hold, I quickly bolted through the doors. I pulled my coat around me and began my long walk to my apartment.

          My apartment wasn’t much; then again, I really didn’t need that much since it was just me. It had its moments where it could be leaky and a pain. But, overall, I managed.

          Locking the door behind me, I shucked off my coat and grabbed my laptop. Flopping down on the couch, I “borrowed” the neighbor’s free wifi. Hooking up my handy-dandy gadget that blocked anyone from seeing or tracing my information, I started my mission.

          While I struggled to type with one hand, I dialed an old friend of mine – the same one that helped me change my name and keep me under the radar. “Spark?”

          “Yeah, I’m here. Geez, China. Do you have any idea what time it is?”

          I glanced down at the clock on the laptop screen. “Yeah. It’s only three.”

          “In the morning, and you’re two hours ahead,” he groaned.

          “Come on, Spark. I need your help. I’m going to try it again.”

          There was silence on the other line. “China…”

          “I know. I’m not going to get my hopes up, but you’ve got to think about it. If anyone was to have my dad’s files, it would have to be in the system.”

          “If your dad has been this hard to find, I doubt he wants to be found. You changed your name, China. From what you’ve described, he seems like he’s paranoid. I dunno, China. I just have a bad feeling about this. It seems like your diving down a rabbit hole or something.”

          I was silent at his words. “I don’t want to find him… I just want…” What do I want? Open arms? A dad? An explanation? I guess I would settle to know if he was at least still alive. “I don’t know, ok? I just feel that if I find something about him, my mind will be put to rest or something.”

          “That’s the biggest lie in the universe, China,” he snorted.

          I narrowed my eyes, even though he couldn’t see me.

          “Fine. Let me crawl to my desk,” he yawned.

          Twenty minutes later, I had him on speaker, barely conversing as we worked. My fingers were starting to cramp; meanwhile, I could hear Spark typing relentlessly over the line.

          “Ok. I’ve got the files. Plug in the sync plug.” The sync plug was Spark’s very own Bluetooth device that paired our computers despite the fact that he was in a different state.

          “Ok,” I announced after I hooked up the device.

          “I’m sending you all the files. Scroll through and see if you can find it.”

          Just as he promised, the files sent. Five minutes later, I was still in the A’s. I finally muttered, “Screw it,” before just skipping down to the M’s. Marcus Hill. Marcus Renton. I checked every Marcus file I saw, for I didn’t know if he had taken another last name in the past eight years.

          However, after ten minutes and after I had gone through all of the Marcus files, I came up empty. “He doesn’t have a file,” I finally breathed.

          “That’s not possible. Everyone had a file, even you do after I redid your information.”

          “You don’t know my dad,” I murmured. Apparently, I barely know my dad, either.

          I heard Spark yawn. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you, China. Do you know if he was involved in any secret operations or something?”

          I shook my head, chewing my bottom lip. “No.” Suddenly, a file caught my attention. There – in bold letters – was a single name that made my heart almost stop.

          John Wick.

          “China? You still there?”

          “Y-yeah. Hey, sorry for waking you. Thanks for helping me.” My mouse hovered over the name. “Hey, I can keep these files, right?”

          He yawned again. “Yeah, you should be able to, but I wouldn’t recommend staying on them for too long. Even through the device, I wouldn’t risk spending too much time on the files. You should have another hour or two.”

          I nodded. “Ok. I’ll just make copies.”

          “Sounds good. Don’t forget to unplug everything. The files will go as soon as you unplug it.”

          “Thanks, Spark.”

          “No problem,” he yawned before we both hung up.

          I turned my full attention back to the file. The temptation to open it was too much. I momentarily felt guilty for thinking such, but that quickly went away, for I still had small hard feelings for him. Tightening my jaw, I clicked the file. Before I started reading, I began to print off the pages. Once I was sure that the printer wouldn’t run out of paper and ink, I began to dive in.

          **Name: Jonathan Wick**

**D.O.B: November 19, 1979**

          I skipped over the other appearance descriptions until I came to “Marine Corps (1996-1999)." I didn’t remember him being in the marines. Wait! That tattoo on his back. I vaguely remembered what it had said. I typed in the Marine Corps’ motto, and sure enough, the phrase popped up. “ _Fortis Fortuna Adiuvat.”_

“What made you quit?” I scanned through that section, but it didn’t give an explanation. He had served his time; no harm, no foul.

After that, there was a lot of information missing. From 2007 to just two years ago, 2012, there was absolutely nothing.

I read the article with wide eyes. “… married Helen Weather on July 8, 2012. I swallowed. John had married? Something twisted inside of me, but I shook it off.

I looked for any details of whether they had had any children, but I came up empty. The next article caused an audible gasp to leave my lips.

“… Helen Wick died at the age of thirty-three on October 18th, 2014.” The cause of death was listed as Leukemia. But, that wasn’t what surprised me. October 18th was three days ago. I then saw that the funeral was held today. I swallowed a lump in my throat.

“Oh, John,” I whispered.

There was no contact information listed. So, contacting him was out of the question. I don’t even know if I would have the nerve to do it anyway.

I made sure the file had printed out before unplugging the device and shutting the laptop down. I was too tired to comb through the hard-copy file. I ended up curling up on the couch, being plagued by thoughts of John and the file.

Finally, I managed to kick all thoughts out.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

          I watched with emotionless eyes as the box was lowered into the ground. The priest was reciting the cliché scripture, and the sounds of occasional sobs filled the air. I looked up at the cloudy sky; even the sky was crying.

          _Is this my punishment? Taking everything away from me as soon as I show the slightest hints of care?_

          The service ended and several people that I didn’t know came by and patted me on the back. I didn’t register any of them as I gazed at the now-filled hole. However, I finally did turn when I felt someone’s eyes on me.

          “Hello, John,” the figure called, lifting his umbrella slightly to reveal his identity.

          “Marcus,” I greeted.

          There was silence for a moment, and I took in his appearance. Twelve years hadn’t done much to him. He had a few wrinkles, but if I didn’t know him, I wouldn’t be able to guess his age. He finally said, “My condolences.” His tone wasn’t filled with any emotion. There weren’t any signs of humor or sympathy.

          I didn’t answer. There wasn’t anything I could say. Last time I checked, there was still bad blood between us. A part of me wanted to believe that everything was patched up between us, but I knew better.

          A part of me wanted him to say some smart remark, a jab that would make me want to snap. I wanted to snap. But, Marcus knew me. He knew what to do and what not to do. Marcus isn’t one to make jabs with word; just as I do, he likes to make literal jabs.

          “What are you doing here, Marcus?”

          Marcus’ eyes seemed distant for a moment. “Just checking up on an old friend.”

          He turned to leave.

          “Marcus.”

          He paused.

          “I am sorry for what happened.”

          No words left him for the longest time. “So am I.” Another pause. “It doesn’t matter now, though. It seems that we’re both in the same boat now. I just wonder how long it’ll take you to come to terms with it.”

          With those words, he departed. Watching his retreating figure, a stab of guilt rushed through me. I had done what I had thought was best. But, no sooner had that thought went through my mind, I buried it. Another stab of guilt hit me.

          _This is my wife’s funeral. I shouldn’t think of such things._

          Turning back to the grave once more, I placed one of my callous hands on the rough cement. I almost wanted to draw back. I didn’t deserve to be here. It should be me in that box – not her.

          Walking away, a sense of dread filled me as I realized I would have to play to host to all of Helen’s friends and family. I just didn’t want to have to deal with anyone. I just wanted to be alone.

          Pushing double-doses of guilt out of my mind, I went through the motions. I suppressed the urge to destroy my entire living room when her entire family wanted to relive memories. I wanted to remember Helen, but it was too painful. And, as I do with all painful situations, I wanted to suppress it. However, a part of me felt that I owed it to Helen to not forget. It was like I was obligated to live with the guilt. I felt that if I dealt with that guilt, I could somehow me redeemed of my other guilts.

          As I began to clean up that evening, a sudden knock snapped my attention from my thoughts. One side of me thought it was just someone that forgot something. Another side disagreed. Either way, I still found myself opening the door without a care in the world.

          On the other side of the door was a shot woman that donned a delivery uniform.

          “John Wick?”

          I nodded.

          “Sign here please.”

          Ignoring her snippiness, I signed the paper and handed the board back to her after she finished unloading the small kennel-like box.

          “And the pen.”

          In my curiosity of what was in the box, I had forgotten to give her back her pen. A part of me smirked at the thought of a pencil and a pen. Not much of a difference. Before I could delve into those thoughts, I handed the pen back to her before she retreated back to her truck.

          I brought the kennel in, sitting it on the counter. There was a note attached to it, and I opened it but paused when I saw the handwriting. A sudden pain filled me as I read Helen’s posthumous letter.

          Once I was done reading it, I held it to my lips as a tearless sob raked through my body. Setting the letter down, I opened the kennel and gently pulled the pup out of it.

          It was a Beagle with white fur and brown spots. I reached down to the nametag, finding the name of the pup to be Daisy.

          “Of course,” I scoffed.

          Looking closer, I caught a glance of her brown eyes. Helen had brown eyes, but so did _she_. That quick pang of guilt filled me as a memory of those sad, innocent eyes had flashed before me. But, the feeling was replaced by repulsion for my mind bringing that up at a time like this.

          Placing the pup on the ground, I let her sniff around the house to familiarize herself with it. Fortunately, she was already house trained. I watched with amusement as she sniffed everything before looking up at me with those brown eyes.

          “Yeah, this is it. Get use to it,” I murmured.

          I finally led her to the bedroom, setting up a blanket for her. I patted the spot, but she just looked at me as if I were an idiot. Sighing, I picked her up and placed her on the bundle before settling myself into bed. Reaching for the switch, I glanced back at her. Her eyes watched every movement I made, and those terrible thoughts filled my head.

          Shaking my head, I mumbled, “Goodnight.”


	3. Night Two:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! Another update out. I'm going to have the next one out probably some time to day. Song used for this chapter "Coming Undone" by Korn. I think you can guess whose P.O.V is.

 

     I woke to being mercilessly licked in the face by the pooch. I tried to dodge around the dog’s kisses without hurting it. Finally, holding my hands up, I got out,

      “I’m up.”

      I went to fetch the newspaper, but after I barely cracked the door, the pup zoomed out to use the restroom. After Daisy came back in, I fixed us each a bowl of cereal. I found it humorous that I was explaining to the dog that I would have to pick her up some kibble. Then again, I didn’t think I would have company any time soon. Honestly, I didn’t even really consider what life was going to be like. After reading Helen’s letter, I don’t know. I received some kind of… hope.   
 

   Daisy followed me out to my car, struggling to hop up in the passenger seat. Surprisingly, she wasn’t everywhere. She stayed on her side of the car, peaking out of the window every now and then. I couldn’t help but smirk at her fascination with just watching the outside world (says the guy that’s being amused by a dog).  
I ran a few errands before finally going to the gas station. As I placed the dipstick into the nozzle, I noted how high gas prices were before thumping rap music caught my attention.   
 

   Three punks hopped out of a car. Their dialect was Russian, and I picked up on fragments of their conversation. I noticed that one of them lit a cigarette, and I quickly shifted to return the dipstick and leave. I didn’t want to be caught in an explosion with idiots. 

     As I was returning the cap to the nozzle, the punk that lit the cigarette came closer. “Nice ride,” he commented.

     He asked if it was a model, and I corrected him while trying to hurry up and leave. My patience was tested when he drummed his hands against the hood of my car. 

     “How much?”

     I was taken aback by his audacity. “Excuse me?”

     “How much for the car,” he spelled out as if I was uneducated. 

     I shook my head, holding back my fuse. “She’s not for sell,” I muttered, climbing into the car. 

     He came to the passenger side window, and damn it if I missed the opportunity to smash his hand while rolling up the window. Instead, he reached in and patted poor Daisy on the head. I wanted nothing more than to yank her from him. 

     “Everything had a price, bitch,” he stated in Russian, believing I didn’t know what he was saying. 

     A part of the fuse broke. “Not this bitch.”

      With that, I cranked my car as he began to throw a tantrum. A bigger punk patted the side of my car, wishing me a good day. I just shook the experience off completely and drove off. 

      As I drove, I felt the need to let my frustration out. Consequently, I dropped Daisy off at the house before going to a truck yard to abuse the gas pedal of my mustang. After almost killing myself, I finally went home.   
 

    That night as I went to turn off the lights, I glanced over at Daisy. Her eyes slowly lifted to mine, and that pain from yesterday came back.   
 

_“You told my Dad to do it, didn’t you?” Her voice was laced with held-back anger, but her eyes were another story. The brown pools portrayed hurt and betrayal as they pierced through me._   


_“I did.”_

_Her eyes became watery, but I knew from observing her for these past three years that she was too proud to let anyone see her cry. “I know you have never cared for me, but that doesn’t mean that you have to keep my dad and me apart. He – he’s all I have,” she hiccupped. She began swatting at her face, frustrated with herself that a few tears had fallen._

_I remained completely emotionless._

_“Do you honestly hate me that much? I had thought-” she cut her words off, searching my face for any answers._

_Of course, I left her with none._

_Her lips parted. “That’s how it is, then,” she breathed._

_Turning away from her, I left her in her mixed emotions. I knew what I had done to her, and I had intentionally done it. Still, as I walked away, I couldn’t believe the gut-wrenching shame that I felt. I had killed many, but this one girl made me feel something that I hadn’t felt in a long time: remorse._

     My eyes focused on Daisy’s brown eyes as I tried to clear those other eyes from my mind. Swallowing, I finally sighed. “Alright, come on, then.”

     Without hesitation, she jumped up on the bed and skipped to lie on my chest. Cupping her head in my giant hands, I shook my head. “What are you doing?” I couldn’t tell if I was asking the dog or myself.

 

     My groggy-sleep was jarred by the sound of Daisy’s high-pitched barking. Grudgingly, I forced myself to wake up as she hopped off of the bed. 

      “You need to go?” I asked in disbelief. It’s like taking care of a child. 

      Hurrying down the stairs to catch up to the pup, my steps slowed when I made out two silhouettes at the bottom of the stairs. Before I could blink, I felt a blow to the back of the head along with the sound of a metal bat striking. Tumbling down, I barely had a chance to recover before I felt several more blows. 

      “Where are those keys?” I heard one mutter in Russian.   
 

    The voices sounded familiar. The only other thing I could make out of my attackers was black clothing and semi-masked faces. Somewhere, I could hear Daisy’s shrill whining. I felt the need to get to her – to protect her. But, I was absolutely useless as I received a kick to the face.   
 

   “Shut that fucking dog up,” one commanded.   
 

   “No!” I wanted to scream the word out, but it never came. 

     To my horror, I watched as one of the taller men walked to a terrified Daisy and held her down. I watched as he broke her neck in one movement as it was a toothpick between his fingers. Too many memories flooded my senses as I gazed at her limp body, but I couldn’t look away, even when I heard that they found the keys. 

     I suddenly felt one of them yank my head up by my hair, forcing me to look at them. Through blurry vision, I recognized him as the one from the gas station – the very same one that asked about my car. 

     “Sleep tight, bitch.

     Everything went black.


	4. Night Three:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update again. A lot of P.O.V changes; they are separated by squiggly lines. Song is "Search and Destroy" by 30 Seconds to Mars.

  
     The next morning after I had checked the files, I decided I would check in with a reliable source. Pulling on a hoodie over my tank-top, I hurried to catch an early bus to an underground chop shop.  
Aurelio was a friend of my father’s. I knew that my dad probably had some skeletons in his closet, especially if he was being hunted down and if he had any dealings with Aurelio. I just didn’t know what kind of skeletons my dad was dealing with.

     I passed through the gates and let myself in a back entrance. However, after hearing a heated conversation inside, I decided to hide behind a junk pile. I could make out some of the conversation. Aurelio seemed concerned as to where the person found the car.

     The person, however, wasn’t giving any details as to where he got it. In fact, he became rather smart before I think he got slugged. There were more heated words before the group finally spun tires as they left.

     Coming from the junk pile, I found Aurelio slamming a car hood down. He turned to me, a brow raised.

     “We need to talk.”

     “Now’s really not a good time,” he murmured, gesturing for me to follow him to a more secluded area.

     “Aurelio, please.”

     He sighed but didn’t protest.

     “I tried the files yesterday morning.”

     “So what?”

     “I found absolutely nothing.”

     “What do you want me to do?”

     I ran my fingers through my hair. “I – I don’t know. I guess I was just wondering if you might have seen him lately.”

      He shook his head. “I haven’t seen your father in a long time. The last time Ichecked on him, he was doing some kind of mission. After that, I haven’t heard from him since.” He ran a hand over his face. “Look, China, if there’s anything I know, I know that your dad is smart. More than likely, he’s gone off the books.”

     “But, surely-”     

     “China, if he is alive, you’re not making it easy for him to find you. Marcus isn’t going to come out, especially if he thinks you’re dead.”

     I considered his words. “Aurelio, please. You can’t come out with my whereabouts or the fact that I am alive. I can’t make myself a sitting duck again. I’m determined to find him, but I’m not going to get killed in the process.”

     He rubbed his temples before he seemed to have caught something I said.      

     Aurelio moved closer, arching a brow. “Has anyone attacked you?”

     “No, but things have been getting… unsettling.”

     He let out a humorless laugh. “Tell me about it.” His eyes flicked over my shoulder. He seemed a little on edge.

     “Aurelio?”

     His brown eyes returned to me.

     “Is everything ok?”

     He shifted and crossed his arm as he checked over my shoulder again. “Are you still working at the Red Circle?”

     I nodded. “Why?”

     “Quit.”

     “What?”

     “Quit your job.”

     “I can’t quit my job. I don’t have-”

     “I will support you, China! Just get out of there, ok?”

     His urgent tone took me by surprise. I had never seen him so anxious; usually, Aurelio had a calm demeanor about him.  
 

    “Why? What’s going on?”

      He plowed his fingers through his nicely combed hair. “Just trust me on this one, China. I have a feeling that the next days are going to be a massacre.”

     “Aurelio, I don’t understand-”

     I was seized by the shoulders. “The fucking boogey man is going to come, and anyone that gets in his way will be killed. You got that?!”

     Goosebumps shot up my spine as I watched Aurelio gaze at me with wild eyes. I nodded. “Ok. Just tell me what is going on. I’ll switch my shifts or something.”

     “I don’t know why you stay in that damned place.” I heard him mutter the words, but I don’t think he meant for me to hear them. He shook his head as he stood to pour himself a shot of a black bottle. “If you won’t quit, China, there’s nothing I can do. Just... be careful.” He sighed. “I’m expecting a long-awaited client.”  
 

    I took the hint and lifted my hood back up. “See you around,” I called softly as I took my leave.

     He didn’t answer; he only poured himself another glass. However, I thought I could make out him saying, “I hope so.”

     With the uneasy feeling in my stomach, I quickly went to a payphone (you can say I inherited my father’s paranoia) and phoned the club. Julie – one of the managers – answered, and I told her that I was feeling a bit under the weather. Fortunately, I never take off of work, so my excuse was plausible. She even wished me good health.

     I went home deep in thought the entire way back. I didn’t know what to do. If I quit my job, I wouldn’t have insight anymore. Aurelio was pretty respectable, but he didn’t know the information that I needed. I couldn’t stay with him; I would be a burden, even though that over the years he had become someone I could confide in.

      As soon as I walked in, I locked my door. A massacre, huh? I walked to my bed and dug out a large boot box. Biting my bottom lip, I opened the box, hesitating at the newspaper clipping that was on top.

**Explosion Kills Daughter, Mother, and Mother’s Boyfriend.**

     After my mom’s death, I became cautious like Dad was. Plus, I work at a bar – not really a safe occupation. Consequently, once I had enough money, I began to take a few self-defense classes and I bought a couple of guns after learning how to shoot.  
 

   Finally pushing aside the clipping, I gazed at the collection of weapons. Every spare penny I had went into buying more things to defend myself with. As I picked one of the guns up, I murmured, “Gosh, I really need to get a life if this is all I can call a hobby.”

~~~~~~~~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  
     

     I remember unconsciously crawling to Daisy. I was sore, but I was mostly numb. The pain didn’t register over the remorse I felt. It was the same helpless feeling I had felt only two other times, and I loathed it.

     My shaky hand outstretched but stopped just before it could reach Daisy. Her eyes were closed, never again to see the outside world. I finally sat up with the dog cradled in my hands. Eventually, I found myself closing up a hole that held a shoebox with her inside.

     I came inside to find the shattered wall decorations. Glass was everywhere, but I walked right over it without a care in a world as my gaze locked on the blood stains. A crazy-sane side of me urged me to clean it up, so I did exactly that.

    _Shick. Shick. Shick. Shick._

     The noise of the brush scrubbing against the polished wood was all I could hear for the longest time. I barley paid attention to my task. My jaw was clenched so tightly that I thought it would snap at any moment.  
Helen’s frail body collapsing in my arms. Punk smashing my house. House explosion pushing me back. The blow of the punk’s bat. Innocent, brown eyes pleading with me to help as someone degrades her. The snap of Daisy’s neck. I heard that snap. It snapped throughout my body, echoing like a scream.                

    Something had officially snapped in me.

     I pulled on a pair of jeans and threaded my arms through the sleeves of my leather jacket. I had left my bloodstained shirt on for some reason, but I couldn’t seem to care. I noticed that one of the punks had left the bat smashed through Helen’s windshield, but for some reason, I didn’t register it.

     Instead, I took a bus to a chop shop. I walked in, barely noticing the gazes I got as I kept my sights on Aurelio. He was sitting by a rundown car with two glasses and a black bottle of alcohol on the hood.

     “Was it here?” I asked upon sitting across from him.

     Aurelio poured some of the bottle into the glass before me, gesturing for me to drink. “It was. Ioseph Tarasov stole it.”

     That last name struck a chord within me. “Viggo’s son.”

     Aurelio’s face confirmed my assumption. He began to explain what happened. Finally, he asked, “What are you going to do?” he finally asked.

      I drained the drink, setting it back down. “I need a ride."

     Aurelio's face drew up in concern. "John, I know... your policy. But, can you just keep your target on them?" He struggled to word his question.

     I held out my hand to him. He grimaced and handed me a set of keys.

 

     

     That night, I received a phone call. A voice that I hadn’t heard in a long time wanted to make peace, but I was far from a forgiving-nature. As soon as I hung up the phone, I knew I had signed my fate. He would send men for me, but I would dispose of them all.

     I came across the steel box that I had buried beneath the basement floor. In a sense, I had tried to bury my past. See where that got me. Rummaging through the box, my fingers trailed over all of the weapons before my fingers stopped on a small locket. It was a small pocket watch with a small cut-out picture.

     My hand froze on the pocket watch before my fingers brushed against the picture of a brunette with brown eyes that beamed as she hugged her father. I didn't understand how I had forgotten it. Clutching it in other hand that was free of a gun, I started up the stairs.

      _"Here." The girl placed a locket in my hand._

_"What's this?" I asked, studying the trinket._

_"It's for protection."_

_I raised a brow. "Why are you giving this to me?"_

_She clasped her hands. "That way you'll never be alone, and you'll always remember that my dad... and I... are here for you," the young teen nervously explained, looking up at me with those hopeful eyes._

     As the memory passed through my mind, I let the shower water pour over my head, leaning into it as the stream ran down my back. Finally, I ran my hands through my hair, smoothing the water from it. I returned to my room, and to my surprise, put on a suit in a nonchalant manner - almost as if I was getting ready for another day in the office. I slipped the pocket watch into the chest pocket of my coat, glancing down at Helen's bracelet and Daisy's collar before I switched the lamp off.

     Leaving the room, I his myself behind the stairs. It wouldn't be long now. Cocking the gun, I waited as I saw a group of about thirteen masked men lurking at all sides of the house like ants.

     Here we go.

 


	5. Night Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovelies! I understand that this chapter has taken about a week to get out, but stuff has been going on, and this chapter was like twenty-something pages long on Word. Needless to say, here is the next update.  
> Songs for this chapter are "In My Mind", "Think" (John Wick Soundtrack), and "Hello Again" by Lostprophets  
> A lot of POV changes. ~ ~ = Pov Change  
> Thank you to all the readers!

 

          I woke early the next morning. I didn’t feel right, for I had a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach. It was nausea mixed with uneasiness. I had an overwhelming feeling to go see Aurelio. I just needed to make sure he was ok, especially after yesterday.

          I pulled on a white tank-top and a pair of skinny jeans. I tucked in the pant legs into a pair of black combat boots. Judging by the frost on the window, I decided to go with my heavy green jacket. Grabbing a wad of cash, I tucked it into my jeans. As I started out the door, I debated whether I should take a gun, as well. Chewing my bottom lip in thought, I compromised on taking one of the knives

          The bus ride to Aurelio’s was agonizing. My knee was bobbing up and down a hundred miles a minute. My poor bottom lip was half cracked because I kept biting down on it.

          When the bus finally came to the stop that was close to Aurelio’s shop, I practically flew out of the doors. I didn’t run, but I kept my pace fast. My hood was thrown over my head, and I kept my hands in my pockets. Before long, I arrived.

          I went through the backdoor to find the shop completely quiet – ghostly quiet. It was so quiet that I could hear the wind rustling the plastic door covering. Every creak and groan of the old cars scared five years off my life as I slowly made my way through the building.

          Coming to Aurelio’s small office, I quietly called out for him. “Aurelio?”

          Suddenly, a hand was clasped over my mouth. I started to fight, but I caught Aurelio’s eyes.

          “What’s going on?” I whispered.

          He shook his head. “You’ve got to go.”

          “Aurelio-”

          He shoved me into the trunk of one of his favorite cars. “They’re coming. Don’t come out until they’re gone.” He shot a glance to me before pulling me to him. I felt him shiver as he pulled me tighter. He slipped something in my hand. “Trust no one.”

          “Wait-”

          He pulled away and started to close the trunk. “Goodbye, China.”

          With that, he shut the trunk. I panicked slightly, but it wasn’t because I was being locked in the trunk. I knew perfectly well, that the trunk had a switch the opened the hood from the inside. I was scared about what Aurelio had just said. I didn’t understand any of what he said.

          My ears picked up several voices. I pressed my eye to the peephole to find Aurelio sipping a drink and smoking a cigarette on top of a Corvette. I turned my attention to the group that walked in as Aurelio did.

          There were three big men approaching Aurelio, and they didn’t seem as if they wanted to stop by and ask about a car. They were going to kill him, and Aurelio knew it! I had to do something, but it was at that moment that I remembered Aurelio’s words.

          “Care for a drink, gentlemen?” Aurelio offered.

          The men didn’t answer. Instead, a tall woman with black hair and a slim figure pushed pass them. She scoffed. “Still think only a man can do dirty work, Aurelio?”

          “Ah, Ms. Perkins, you misunderstand me. I’m just old-fashioned.”

          She scoffed. “Well, times have changed.”

          Aurelio crunched down on a piece of ice. “Obviously.” He finished his drink before setting it down. He brought his cigarette to his lips. “I have a fairly good idea as to why you’re here, but enlighten me, Ms. Perkins.”

          “I’m definitely not looking for a ride,” she replied, tapping her long nails against the hood of the car Aurelio was leaning against.

          “Viggo sent you?”

          Ms. Perkins tilted her head. “What can I say? Business is business, and you’re a loose end.”

          Aurelio gave a humorless laugh as he cocked his head. Turning away, he poured himself one more glass as he stepped out his cigarette. He took a long swig of his drink. “Come on, then,” he muttered.”

          In a blink of an eye, Aurelio was on the ground. The ice of his drink was scattered as were the shards of his broken glass. An ear-splitting bang echoed through the air, seeming to cause my heart to want to stop. My ears rang as I gazed in shock at Aurelio’s dead body.

          “I’ve got a reservation I have to catch. Be seeing you, boys,” Perkins informed the men around her as she strutted out of the room.

          The men followed behind her. Even though I wanted nothing more than to launch out of the trunk, I waited until I heard the sound of an engine roaring to life and the sound of a car driving off. When that finally happened, my shaky hand reached for the leaver.

          The trunk popped open, and I crawled out of the trunk. My stomach knotted up as my feet brought me forth. Tears brimmed my eyes as I squatted next to Aurelio. His lifeless brown eyes gazed up at the ceiling. I stayed there for what felt life hours before I realized I had to leave.

          Swatting my eyes, I palmed my knife and tightened my grip on the note Aurelio had given to me. Enclosed were a set of keys to the very car he had locked me in. With one last glance at Aurelio, I forced myself into the car and high-tailed it out of the shop.

          I honestly wasn’t stable enough to drive. My shaky behavior was revealed in my driving. But, I honestly couldn’t care. I had just seen someone I cared for murdered before my eyes.

          I found myself parked in the parking lot of The Red Circle. I tried to sort through my thoughts, but that’s when I remembered the note in my hand. Quickly unfolding it, I found a flash drive enclosed. Clutching the drive, I began to read the note.

          _China,_

_Your father is alive. His whereabouts are unknown, but he is alive. By the time you read this, I will be dead. I have saved everything I know about your father on this flash drive. Take care of it, for it holds valuable information that people would kill for. I’m sorry I can’t help you anymore. I realize my earlier warnings are no good. Don’t abide by them, for they will probably end up getting you killed. Your only hope is to either find your father or to go to The Red Circle. I have a feeling that an old friend of ours is going to be attending. Be on the lookout._

_Take care,_

_Lio._

By the time I had finished reading the letter, I was shaking even more. I held so many mixed emotions: remorse, confusion, and anger. Anger was winning. I didn’t know what to do. I was scared because of all my different emotions; I felt… unstable.

          Cutting the engine, I slouched down in the seat, rereading the letter. A friend? What did he mean? Aurelio was my last connection to my father. He was the only person that I kept in contact with. Of course, there was always _him_ , but his file proved to be unhelpful.

          Sighing and sobbing, I pushed my crazed hair from my face. I debated going home, but after seeing what I had, I knew I wouldn’t feel safe there. I really didn’t feel safe anywhere anymore.

          Wiping my eyes and smoothing my hair down, I glanced at the mirror. I knew what I would have to do. I would have to pretend that everything was normal. I wanted revenge; I wanted to finally find out where my father was. I was tired of waiting, and now, I’m ready to take action.

         

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

(New P.O.V. Change)

          _Gzummmee. Gzummmee._

The incessant buzzing was interrupted by the musical doorbell. Slightly frustrated and slightly relieved, I dropped the carrot I was about to slice. However, before I left the kitchen, I slipped a knife in the pocket of my robe before walking to the door.

          Taking a deep breath, I faced the visitor. When I opened the door, I recognized a face that I hadn’t seen in a long time. I was almost tempted to slam the door in his face. How did he even know where I to find me? I had changed places; I had gone off the books.

          “Marcus,” he greeted.

          Realizing I had to at least hear him out, I invited him in. He sat down at my dining room table. I placed a glass of the freshly made carrot juice – mixed with other things, as well – before opening one of the many curtains. I noticed that the man flinched slightly at the new lighting as he smelled the drink before putting it to the side.

          “I have a job for you,” he finally said.

          Quick to the point, then. “I have a phone,” I replied.

          He smirked, stroking his beard. “I want to offer this face-to-face, seeing as it is a… personal matter.” He didn’t even hesitate. “Will you kill John Wick for two million dollars?”

          And, there it was. The big question. Fortunately for me, he caught me as I was taking a swig of the juice.

          “After all, you were close,” he added with a gleam in his eye.

          _Key word: “were”._ I masked my emotion well, refusing to bite the bait. “Is the contract exclusive?” I asked.

          “Afraid not. It’s an urgent matter.”

          “Consider it done,” I agreed with a lazy curve of my lips.

          “Thank you, Marcus. I knew I could count on you.” He thanked me for the juice as he got up and departed.

          I watched from the window as the men got into their cars and sped off. “Of course. You brought the whole armada,” I muttered before turning to the cubby of the staircase. Pulling it open, I gazed at the many guns before picking out several of my rarely-used treasures.

          “Special circumstances call for a special one,” I voiced as I began to load and prepare it.

 

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

          I pulled into the towering hotel. Even though it was older than I was, it looked almost brand new. I let the valet take my car after I had taken my bags from the trunk. I dreaded entering the building because – in a sense – I’ll be returning to the underground. Inhaling deeply, I stepped into the lobby.

          Fortunately, the room was rather deserted. Just like the outside, the inside really had changed, too. Then again, it had been some time since I was last in this place.

As I came closer to the desk, I noticed a tall, slim figure dressed in all black with a fur coat around her. Blue eyes shot over her shoulder as they ran over me. I wasn’t a big fan of this woman. She had always been rather… fast. Despite her looks, she was rather repulsive.

          “Good seeing you again, John,” she spoke in a smooth voice as her eyes scoped me out once more.

          “Perkins,” I greeted.

          Her eyes smirked as she strutted by. I stepped up and made small talk about the place with the manager, digging around to see if the hotel was still owned by the same owner.

          “Same owner,” he assured me.

          Digging into my pocket, I placed a gold coin on the desk. The manager pocketed the coin and handed me a key. “Room 880.”

          I nodded in thanks and took the key.

          “And, as always, it’s a pleasure to have you with us again… Mr. Wick.”

          I internally cringed. I wasn’t coming back, and I knew I would have to explain that to many others tonight. It was going to be a long night.

         

          After settling in and having a bite of dinner, I found myself re-watching one of the last videos I had of Helen. I only allowed myself to play through it once. I finally pocketed my phone and made my way downstairs to the lounge.

          The lounge was almost a sort of club. There was booze, a jazz band, and smokes. However, unlike most clubs, this one had a roomful of trained assassins. But, there were boundaries. Consequently, this was a safe zone: a place where other assassins could meet other assassins and all that jazz.

          I made my back towards the back, noticing some familiar faces. There were a couple of murmurs and stares, but I ignored them. I didn’t stop until I came to the booth. My eyes raked over the middle-aged man with black hair that was almost the same length as mine. His glasses were almost on the bridge of his nose as he scanned over his documents.

          “Hello, Winston.”

          His eyes lifted and a slow smile spread to his lips. “Jonathan,” he near chuckled. He jested with a small comment about my beaten state before I got down to my reasoning.

          “I’d like to talk with Ioseph Tarasov.”

          Winston looked amused as he took a sip of his drink. “I’m familiar with your talks.” He leaned in closer. “Have you thought this through? You got out once; you dip so much as a pinky in this pond, you may never resurface.”

          “Where do I find him?”

          “You know the rules, John.” He lifted his drink. “I’d advise you to kick back and have a drink.” He adjusted his glasses and turned to his documents.

          Biting back anger, I growled, “It’s personal,” before getting up and going towards the bar.

          Only a couple of steps from the bar, a voice pierced through my thoughts. “Jonathan!”

          “Hello, Addie.”

          My head was seized as she pressed a kiss to my lips. I forgot that Addie has no regard to personal boundaries. Luckily, she backed off when I pulled away. She asked me about life on the other side. I vaguely told her before she offered me my usual.

          Shoving my hands into my pockets, I glanced around as I waited for her to bring back the drink.

          “On the house,” she said, her red lips pulling into a smile.

          My brows knitted up as I glanced down at the napkin before glancing back at where Winston sat. He raised his glass to me before I glanced back down at the napkin that read two words.

          Red Circle.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

          I finally worked up the nerve to walk inside the club. It was busier than usual. Despite my nerves, I managed to make myself looks as normal as possible. I walked in, tied my hair up, and washed my hands.

          Julie rounded the corner as I noticed a couple of men in suits. “Club’s on slight lockdown.”

          “What’s going on?” I asked, trying to keep my tone level as I palmed my knife.

          She shrugged. “Some security reasons. Anyway, Ioseph’s in. He has requested you.”

          “I’m not his entertainment,” I muttered.

          She chuckled. “Tell ‘em how you really feel.” She handed me a keycard and a tray.

          I sighed. “Where’s he at?”

          “Basement lounge.”

          I cringed internally. “I am not wearing one of those outfits.”

          Julie held her hands up in surrender. “Not my call. You have my support, though.”

          Trudging towards the basement, I had to pass through two men for security reasons. I think I caught them off-guard, for I let myself in by using the keycard. As soon as I walked in, I was greeted by two guns pointed at me.

          I held up my card-and-tray-filled hands. “I’m just the waitress,” I explained.

          They each lowered their guns. The one on the left was bald and had a black goatee, probably in his early fifties. He sent me a flirty smile that made me struggle to hold back the urge to barf. His voice was accented. “That’s ok. You need to be more careful, though, especially tonight, Miss.”

          I nodded, not really paying attention to what he said. They let me pass, and I could feel both men staring at my ass. What was it with men?

          Coming into the room, my eyes took a minute to adjust to the dim blue and red lighting.          Unfortunately, the basement was where the pools were. Consequently, the air was a little muggy and the floors were damp. The room was filled with the sound of thumping music and the sound of Ioseph and his group chanting some chant over and over in Russian.

          With a sense of dread, I came closer to the pool where Ioseph was. Ioseph reached for the bottle that the bikini-clad waitress offered him. My plan at staying in the background failed when his eyes landed on me.

          “Miss. Priar!” he called, gesturing for me to come closer. Pressing my lips together, I clutched the tray to my chest and walked closer. “Yes, Mr. Tarasov?”

          He waved away the address. “Always so formal.” He set his drink on the side, coming to the edge of the pool so that he was looking up at me. His damp hand came up to wrap around my wrist. “I would love to see you loosen up a bit.” He flashed a grin. “Maybe even wear one of those special uniforms.” His eyes shot to the bikini waitresses, and it took everything in me not to slap in the face.

          “I-”

          I was cut off when a man with a suit and spiky, salt-and-peppered hair came up. Ioseph said something in Russian with a drunken smile and slurred vernacular. The man didn’t find the conversation amusing.

          “Are you afraid of the Boogeyman? I’m not.”

          “No? You should be.” With that said, he snatched the bottle from Ioseph’s other hand and walked away with two other men behind him.

          Ioseph’s pride was injured, for he seemed slightly mortified. “I want another bottle,” he announced, and I had to suppress a laugh. He really did sound like a spoiled brat sometimes.

          “I’ll go-”

          He snatched my wrist again. “No. You stay.”

          I was to his level, for he had pulled me to where I was sitting on my knees; the water dampened my jeans. Noticing how close we were, I quickly opted for a change of subject.

          “Um… What did you mean? The Boogeyman?”

          He rolled his eyes. “Some nobody that has is out for me now. He’s apparently a big deal.”

          I arched a brow. “Do you know who it is?” I asked, prying slightly, realizing that he was just drunk enough to realize what I was doing.

          “Wick,” he muttered. “John Wick.”

          A chill shot up my back at the name. But, I was pulled back to the present when Ioseph’s voice filled my ears. “But, I don’t want to talk about that. I want to do… other things.”

          Crap.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

          After killing Ioseph’s right hand man, I let myself through a backdoor. As I came closer to the windows that overlooked the scene, I could already hear the thumping music. I passed the first two windows before settling on the third. I made out Ioseph and a couple of girls that surrounded him. I then took in how many people I would have to face before I reached him.

          I then faced off with two men, but it wasn’t much of one. The first death was silent, for I just threw him against the wall and cracked his skull. The second death took a little over two minutes for he put up a small struggle. I watched as the life drained his eyes as he slowly slid to the ground before I retracted the blade.

          Now enabled to a better angle, I snuck up to a lattice towel rack. I peered through the holes, finding I had a better view of Ioseph. I would have to take town just a couple. The women wouldn’t get in the way; it was mostly then men that would try to interfere. My eyes landed back on Ioseph before they drifted to what Ioseph was focused on.

          A brunette with long, wavy hair was dressed in jeans and a white tank-top. She seemed as if she was trying to pull away from him. Ha, I have to give her one thing; she definitely has taste if she’s resisting him. With a slight turn of her head, I froze.

         No. It couldn’t be. She was dead. I blinked several times, trying to make the girl before me change, but she wouldn’t. There she was as clear as day.

          I was snapped out of my thoughts when I heard the door behind me open. The man reached for his gun, and I began to knock the gun out of his hand. Damn, he caught me off guard. I cursed internally when I was backed up into the towel rack, alerting everyone to my presence.

 

~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

          “He’s here!”

          I was saved by some ruckus. My first thought was that someone was having a drunken fight, but the sudden yell made me realize something else was going on. I turned my head just in time to see two men fighting on the ground. One with dark, shoulder-length hair gained the upper hand, wrapping his hand around the man’s neck as he shifted behind the man to shoot an oncoming guard.

          I jumped slightly at the noise, and Ioseph instantly released me. He reached for his gun, trying to leave the pool. Before he could, he froze as the attacker’s gaze turned on him. I did the same as the attacker’s eyes shifted me for one split moment.

          The moment was no longer than an intake of breath on my part, but it was plenty long enough. Glossy, black strands of hair hung over his eyes, almost parting like a curtain. His hair was almost shoulder-length; it had definitely grown from the last time I had seen him. His jaw was lined with a light beard. He hadn’t changed much. Of course, he had gotten a little older, but it seemed more like he was a fine wine – he just seemed to get better with age. One thing that did remain the same, though, was his brown – almost black – eyes that seemed to always pierce through my very soul. It was the infamous John Wick.

          I focused back in when his eyes shifted back to Ioseph. He held eye contact with Ioseph, daring him to try to defend himself with the gun. Without blinking, he pulled the trigger, and the man’s brains exploded on the floor.

          No scream came out of my mouth. It was almost as if I was in shock as I watched him step over the dead man’s body and start towards us. However, a beefy man shot out of the water and tried to stop him. John stabbed him and shot him several times before blood shot out of his head as he fell back into the pool.       

          I was suddenly seized as Ioseph used me as a shield so that he could get to the nearest exit. He really was an ass. I fought against him as my gaze shifted to John. I didn’t think it would do any good. If he was as serious as these guys said, then he wouldn’t let me get in the way of his kill. As he held up his gun, I knew that he wouldn’t hesitate to kill me to get to Ioseph if he had to.

          However, even though he lifted his gun, he didn’t shoot. Instead, he reached to recharge his gun. A look of pure hatred engraved on his face as he glared at Ioseph. I was shoved to the ground, for Ioseph had safely made it to the exit.

          In the next instance, John’s bullets followed Ioseph, penetrating through the glass, always one inch away from hitting the target. A bullet whizzed by John’s head, and he instinctively slid towards the pillar I was behind before taking the shooter out. Ioseph took that opportunity to get out.

          “Why must you always get in the way?” I felt John yank me by the shoulder, forcing me to look up at him. “Come on. Get up,” he growled as he pulled me to my feet. He lowered his face to where we were extremely close before commanding, “Stay close and try not to get killed.”

          With that said, he pulled me up a flight of stairs. My short legs struggled to keep up with his longer ones, but I pushed myself and he pulled. Several bullets hit the glass that lined the stairs, barely missing John and me. Before long, we were in the above-ground club.

          The room was dimly lit by the spinning wall-light, and no sounds could be heard over the rave music. I thought that with as many people as there were that it would prove difficult to move along the crowd. However, John made it seem as if he was parting the Red Sea as he slowly made his way towards a fumbling Ioseph. As he stalked towards his prey, he seemed almost like… an angel of death.

          He shot a couple of men that got in his way. No one seemed to notice but Ioseph and me, though. Ioseph stumbled up the stairs, and we lost sight of him. John disposed of some more men before he made his way after him with me in tow.

          I was tossed behind a booth once we were in the main area. Tucked inside the booth, I watched as quickly shot the men. He was a machine as he went through them. It seemed almost as if it was just another day for him as he calmly reloaded his gun before finishing the men in the room. He then moved on to the next one.

          I felt both horrified and amazed as I watched the blood taint the floor. It didn’t faze John. None of it did. In fact, he seemed almost as if he was enjoying it. He tugged me back into the second half of the club and pushed me behind another object. I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. It was as if I was hypnotized to watch all the destruction: the broken bones, the blood, and the bodies.

          I kept close behind him as he started off for Ioseph again. Of course, I remained in the shadows, making sure to keep down. However, as Ioseph made it to the door, I saw a bald man emerging from the shadows with his gun pointed at John.

          “Watch out!”

          John instantly ducked behind the beads before smashing a pitcher in his face, grabbing him by the beard, and finally shooting him in the face. As soon as he finished the man, two shots pierced the air and hit John.

          A breath escaped my lips as my body itched for me to go towards him, but I knew I would only cause more trouble for him. Fortunately, John got to his feet and started to fight the man that had informed Ioseph that he should be scared of John.

          John shot the man that accompanied the “babysitter”. When he turned his gun to shoot the babysitter, he realized that his gun was empty. Among the chaos, he joined me behind the beads, clutching at his abdomen as he shook off the pain. Upon seeing that the babysitter was close, he shoved me further behind the curtain before emerging to fight.

          The babysitter was a fair match for John, for he seemed to manage himself well. Almost every hit John threw, the man blocked and actually roughed John up instead. Finally, the man threw John over the side of the balcony. Swallowing a gasp, I rushed down to the ground floor, finding John managing to grab a small gun from the back of his pants before firing above towards the babysitter and missing.

          John rolled to his feet, and his eyes landed on me. Holding his hip, he clutched my arm with his free hand, seeming to flinch in pain at the action. He pulled me out of the club, blending us in with the fleeing people. Well, there goes my job.

          As we were coming out of the club, a ringing noise emerged from a pocket of John’s suit. Still holding onto me, he answered the phone. I could faintly make out Russian; from the sound of the voice, I gathered it was Ioseph.

          “Victor’s dead,” John growled through clenched teeth. He said something else in Russian before slamming the phone on the ground. Clutching his side again, he continued to lead me.

          I couldn’t tell who was leading. He was in pain, yet he seemed to be pulling me along. Then again, it almost seemed as if I was leading him, for he would sometimes lean on me before pulling me along. It was almost as if he wouldn’t let himself fall to a weak image.

          Several blocks of hobbling later, we finally made it to a hotel. I heard about the hotel, but it was almost some sort of membership hotel. I had applied to it once, but I had been rejected.

          It was rather classy both inside and out. The owner was rumored to be even more; however, there was always another rumor that mentioned him having a couple of skeletons in his closet, as well. It wouldn’t surprise me, especially after what I had seen tonight.

          I snapped to attention when I heard John and the hotel manager conversing. John had asked for a doctor, and the manager was going to send the doctor along with some Bourbon. John even asked about dry-cleaning. Hell, the only hope for those clothes was to burn them.

          “That sounds perfect.”

          “And, you, Miss? May I help you?” The manager turned his attention to me.

          My lips parted, but John answered before I could even think. “She’ll be staying with me.”

          “Very good, sir. Can I get you anything?”

          I shook my head. “No, but thank you, though.”

          With that, John tightened his grip as he pulled me towards the elevator. I noticed that he was practically gripping his wound. I swear, if he put any more pressure on it, his hand would probably shoot straight through his hip.

          John pulled out his key and unlocked it. He held the door open for the both of us before staggering in with me in behind him. Fortunately, the door automatically locked. I tried to help him to a chair, but his stubborn self shook me off.

          “I got it,” he growled, clutching at his side.

          Hesitantly, I released him. I watched as he pulled off his jacket and white button-up, always careful to avoid the wounds. It seemed every movement pained him; it pained me to watch him struggle. Why? I didn’t know.

          I shouldn’t help him. I shouldn’t feel anything towards him but anger. Still, I found myself having those feeling resurface. Among them, I felt rage and many other mixed emotions.

          “Let me,” I started, reaching to help him with his bulletproof vest. Before I even touched him, he swatted at my hands. I instantly pulled back.

          “I said I got it,” he snarled, unfastening the vest with one hand.

          Seeing that he wasn’t going to let me help him, I sat down in a chair. I folded my hands in my lap, fidgeting here and there as I tried to not focus on him. However, that was an impossible task.

          It wasn’t long before the doctor was in. He worked rather quickly. In mere moments, John was stitched up with his right arm in a sling and an icepack on his shoulder. The doctor was rather peeved, and it seemed that he knew what boat John was in.

          “Will you need anything for the pain?” the doctor asked as he began to pack up his materials.

          “I have that covered,” John replied, raising his glass of Bourbon.

          The doctor turned to look at me. “What about you? You hurt, too?”

          I shook my head. “No. I’m fine. Thank you.”

          With that, the doctor departed, leaving just the two of us alone. John downed his drink, releasing a sigh as the door clicked. I was still a fidgeting mess, refusing to let myself look at him. But, my traitorous eyes drifted back to him.

          John placed his glass on the table as he began to pour himself another glass with his left hand. Setting the bottle down, he swirled the glass as he looked at its contents. “So, you’re not dead,” he stated as his eyes flicked up to me, holding me captive by his gaze.

          I had two choices: act like I hardly remember him, or I pretend pick up where we left off. I racked my brain for an aloof answer, but I only managed a shake of my head. “You’re not, either, I presume.”

          “Not yet.” He lifted the glass and took a long sip. There was silence as he sat the glass down. “Now that we’ve established that you’re not dead, explain how you’re not and why you were at the Red Circle.”

          “I could ask the same of you,” I snapped, growing tired of his attitude.

          His dark eyes flicked up to me, almost as if he was saying, “Are you sure you want to question me?” I stood my ground, refusing to be intimidated by him. I wasn’t the same girl.

          He didn’t offer an explanation. He only waited for me to explain, but I wasn’t going to, not if he wasn’t going to give me at least a detail of his reasoning.

          Realizing that we were just sitting there, waiting for the other to crack, I sighed. “You’re still stubborn,” I growled, getting up to go the bathroom. Wetting a washcloth, I went back into the room.

          John eyed the rag that I had in my hand and tensed up slightly. I rolled my eyes. “I’m not gonna beat you with it.” I sat down on the arm of the chair, making sure to keep my distance and avoid his injuries. I raised my hand, but he batted it away.

          “I know you’re prideful, but accept some help every once and awhile.”

          He stopped as his eyes ran over me. His brow quirked, for he seemed to be trying to figure me out. Good luck with that. I don’t even know how to figure myself out.

          I lifted the cloth again, and he didn’t make any moves to bat me away. Still, he remained completely still. I felt his eyes examining my face, but I refused to make eye contact. Instead, I focused everything within me on dabbing his face. There were some cuts, and I made sure to be careful with them.

          “I had just left my mom’s when the place exploded. I was going to leave that night; I made arrangements to catch a bus and move off. I was just about to board when I received word. For some reason, it had gotten around that I was dead. So, I kept it that way. I changed my last name, got a new file, and…” I waved a hand, “Here I am.”

          John listened quietly, never interrupting.

          “I’ve been working at the Red Circle for the past years.”

          “Why would you want to work for _him_?” he growled.

          “Why would _you_?” I asked turning his question against him. “I know you have some skeletons in your closet, Mr. Wick.”

          John’s lips thinned and he started to pull away.

          I sighed, lowering the rag. “I’m looking for my dad, ok? That’s why I put up with that place.”

          And, just like that, John stopped again.

          Pouring him another shot, I began to explain. “I thought I would have some insight by working there.”

          “You won’t find, Marcus,” John said, eyeing the drink I had just poured him.

          “I know. I’ve been doing it for nearly twelve years, and all I have found is you.”

          John raised the glass to his lips. “Piss-poor-trade, huh. I still stick to my claim. I think the both of you are better off without the other.”

          I pressed my lips together as my eyes fell to the floor. So, this is how he’s going to be. A part of me wanted to pretend like that didn’t happen. I wanted to at least try to be civil to him; however, he was going to make that difficult. Those memories that had made me cry several times haunted me. With the memories of Aurelio’s death freshly on my mind, I had to fight tears.

          “So,” I said through a mouthful of cotton. “I can presume you won’t aid me, then.”

          No answer.

          I lifted my head, chin up. “Very well. I’ll bid you goodnight,” I said, moving to my feet.

          I started to move, but I was instantly stopped as his hand wrapped around my wrist, forcing me to stop. I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t. It would make me lose my will to leave. Damn. I thought that after all this time these feelings would go away. All he had to do was look at me, and I was instantly ensnared.

          “I can’t let you leave.”

          “Why?” I asked, breaking down to look at him.

          Without blinking, he responded, “Because as soon as you walk out of that door, you will die.”

          My eyes widened in surprise before I forced myself to normal. “What’s it to you? I can take care of myself.”

          “I owe Marcus this much as to not let your naivety get you killed, and I honestly don’t believe you could handle yourself against trained assassins.”

          “I took a self-defense class,” I snapped back.

          I think I caught a glance of him rolling his eyes. “You’re staying – at least for tonight. That’s final.”

          “You can’t force me to stay here.”

          He arched a brow. “Fine. If you want to live in order to continue your search for Marcus, then I suggest you stay. If you don’t, there’s the door. It’s your choice,” he said with a thin-lipped smile.

          Biting down on my bottom lip, I glanced at the door. Finally, I sighed and flopped down on the chair. “You’re still a pain,” I grumbled.

          He finally took a sip of the glass I had poured him. “As are you.”

          For the longest time, we just sat there. He finished the glass I had poured him, and that seemed to be all he would touch. An idea popped into my head. He had had about three or four shots. It would take about two tops to get him in a chatty mood; of course, it might be different for him.

          From my years in bartending, I figured out that usually by the first of second drink, one would usually start spilling all their dirty laundry. Yet, John was different. For all I know, it might take the whole bottle to get him to start talking. Still, I don’t want to get him too wasted, for he would probably be out fighting again tomorrow. I would have to distract him and start pouring drinks.

          Getting up, I walked to the tray that had been left. I grabbed one of the glasses and started to reach for the Bourbon. I looked up at John. “May I? It’s been a night.”

          He flicked his hand as if to say, “Be my guest,” before running his fingers through his hair. Taking a sip of the Bourbon, I relished in the humming sensation it sent through me. I didn’t drink often; I didn’t like not being in control of myself, especially seeing how drugs and such made my mom.

          “How are the arm and the wound?” I asked, gesturing towards his sling.

          He shrugged. “I’ll heal.”

          I nodded my head before taking another sip. A memory flashed through my mind. “You probably don’t remember when I got drunk on Bourbon at Dad’s.” I scoffed, shaking my head. There was no response for a moment, and I turned to pour myself another glass.

          “It was Scotch.”

          With my back turned to him, a small smile splayed to my lips. So you do remember. Very clever in picking up on my trick, John. Wiping away my smile, I turned to him and shrugged.

          “I can’t even remember why I was getting hammered in the first place. I just remember that I was upset about something.”

          “Your friends were starting rumors that you were sleeping with guys for money.”

          I froze. I don’t even remember telling him that. “I don’t even remember telling you that.”

          He lifted his shoulder, lifting his glass. I poured him another shot, not even thinking about my plan anymore.

          John studied the drink. “I do remember. You were about fifteen.” He shook his head. “No, you were fifteen. I had just come in. You were so mixed up with your emotions. You had downed about a bottle and a half before I got there, so you were already pretty drunk. You would cry about the incident, but you never said what was going on. I didn’t know what to do; I thought about waiting until your dad got home, but then you started talking about killing yourself. At one point, you broke one of the bottles and started trying to cut yourself. That’s when I reprimanded you. It took a long time to pry that piece of glass out of your hand, but once it was out of your hand, you broke down. You cried until you were hiccupping as you held onto me as if… I was your lifeline or something.” He shook his head. “You told me what happened before you passed out.”

          In between him telling the story, I kept refilling his glass as I intently listened to him talk. When he finished the story, I was momentarily speechless.

          "I had forgotten about that part," I whispered.

          He shrugged and stood up, taking his drink over to the bed. I felt a little disappointed when he left.

          “You can either take the chair, or you can share the bed with me,” he murmured.

          Wanting to hear him talk more, I brought the bottle to the bed and sat down on the edge. He began to settle down, taking sips of his drink. In the meantime, I played with many things that I wanted to ask him about, for I thought that he had finally reached that point. I mean, for crying out loud, he just recited a whole memory that even I had forgotten about.

          “Mr. Wick?”

          “Why have you always called me that?”

          I raised a brow as he looked at me. “What?”

          “Mr. Wick.”

          “That’s your name.”

          “Yes, but you’re always so formal.”

          “You’re the one that’s always so formal.”

          He shrugged. “Touché. Anyway, what is it?”

          “Why do they call you the boogeyman?”  

          He chuckled, a nice deep sound that was music to my ears. “Who told you about that?”

          I shrugged. “I just heard someone say it.” Biting down on my lip, I finally opted to ask the question. “Are you a hit man or something?”

          He sent me a look from the corner of his eye as he sipped at his Bourbon. “Possibly.”

          I’ll take that as a yes. “Is Ioseph Tarasov you’re target?”

          I saw him frown. Oh, crap. I ruined it.

          “Why do you ask? Are you concerned about your boyfriend?”

          “He’s not my boyfriend,” I snapped.

          “It doesn’t matter. Either way, I wouldn’t spare his life even if you asked me with those big brown eyes.”

          His statement threw me off a little. Maybe I had given him a little too much.

          “You have a habit of leading on corrupted men,” he murmured. “I thought I taught you better.”

          My cheeks reddened at the memory, but I quickly pushed it away. I tried to focus on John’s face now.

          “Why do you want him?”

          “Personal reasons,” he responded. He leaned his head back against the headboard, his eyes slowly started to become heavily hooded.

          I waited for awhile before braving myself to ask a very serious question. “John?” I whispered.

          “Hmm?” His voice came out as a hum that originated from the back of his throat.

          I bit my lip, briefly debating whether I should say my next words. “I read up on your file.”

          No answer. No movement.

          I looked down at my hands. “I saw that you had gotten married.”

          Still nothing.

          “I saw that she… I’m sorry.”

          I glanced up as he slowly opened his eyes. I don’t know what I expected. I guess I expected something, but there was nothing. There was no emotion at all.

          In a blink of an eye, he had tugged me to where I was sitting on my knees before him. His free hand was locked tightly around my wrist, enabling any movement on my part. It wasn’t painful, but if I moved, it would prove to be.

          A gasp escaped my lips when I saw his cold, brown eyes inquisitively piercing through me. “What’s your game?”

          “Wh- what are you talking about?” I stuttered out.

          “You act as if nothing has happened. You act as if I haven’t done anything wrong. You talk as if we’re old friends. You’ve reminisced, gotten me to open up some, as well. And,” he gestured towards the bottle. “You steadily refill my glass so that I will tell you my secrets in a drunken state.”

          My lips parted. How had he calculated everything? Duh, China. He’s a freaking killing machine.

          “So, what are you playing at?” He growled. “Are you here to kill me? Did Viggo try to use his little bartender to kill me?” He gave a dry laugh. “I bet you jumped right on board. Kill me and find Marcus. Why wouldn’t you? I’ve only ever humiliated you.” He grabbed a fistful of my hair, pulling my face closer to his. Once again, the movement was painful, but it was rather forceful. Our faces were only inches apart. His eyes raked slowly over my face as his fingers came up to brush the hair from my face. "But, I won’t make it easy for you,” he growled.

          He was so close. His lips were there, poised just mere inches from mine. I shook my head, finally snapping out of my stupor. “John, I - I couldn’t kill you. Even if I wanted to,” I admitted.

          His eyes widened slightly, and his face seemed to move closer. I think his eyes darted to my lips, but it might have just been a trick of the light. My anticipation was cut as a bullet whizzed right between us, barely missing us.

          John pulled me to him as he rolled off the bed. He pushed me to the other side as another bullet that came from the doorway almost hit him. He rolled across the bed to me as several bullets hit the glass headboard.

          I heard a feminine voice from the doorway. “Hey, John.”

          “Perkins,” he called, searching the small space around us for his gun.

          “I thought I’d let myself in.”

          John began to take his sling off, wrapping it around his fist. “I noticed,” he said through clenched teeth. Shoving me back, he charged to disarm the woman, using his sling to try to pry her gun from her hold. Several more shots went off, and I had to dodge behind the bed to not get hit. Before long, John had her pinned to the wall with his sling around her neck.

          My eyes widened when I got a good look at her. It was the woman that killed Aurelio. Rage flowed through my veins, and I began hunt for some kind of weapon. My knife was still on me, but where was John’s gun.

          John had flipped Ms. Perkins over his back before she began to get some hits in. Dammit, John! Kill her. The phone began to ring as Perkins pushed John to the couch with his armed pinned at an odd angle.

          With rage and adrenaline fueling me, I launched myself onto her back, plunging my knife into her shoulder. She let out a snarl and teetered back, but she still didn’t let go of John. Consequently, John had both of us on his back. We all hit the wall, and I got knocked off for Perkins popped her head back to hit me in the face.

Blood poured out of my nose. I groaned, pinching my nose as I tried to get back to my feet. Meanwhile, Perkins and John were still rolling around.

          Gosh. She was like a freaking spider monkey or something. She sent several blows to his side and tore his stitched before I lazily grabbed the lamp. Coming up behind her, I smashed the lamp over her head with everything I had.

          _Take that, Spider Monkey bitch._

With the blow to her head, John managed to knock her off of him before grabbing one of the sheets off of the bed. Tossing the sheet over her head, he sent a punch to her face before tossing her out of the window. With her in a weakened state, John finally answered the phone.

          I took that moment to examine the room as I still clutched the broken lamp with one hand and my bleeding nose with the other. Everything that was made of glass was broken, even the TV was cracked. The table was knocked over, along with other furniture. The bed was messed up, and there were spots of blood on the white sheets.

          “My apologies. I was dealing with a… uninvited guest,” John explained.

          Noise complaint, I guess. I saw that Perkins was crawling out of the door. I didn’t want her to get away, but I knew that John wouldn’t let her.

          “Perhaps. I’ll have to get back to you.”

          Hanging up the phone, John stalked out of the room. I followed, choosing to stay at the door. He spun her to where she was facing me as he poised the gun to her head. His uninjured arm was wrapped around her chin.

          “Where’s Ioseph?”

          “Fuck you.”

          “Where’s Viggo?” He tried again.

          “I’m not telling you shit.”

          He tightened his hold and pressed the gun against her head. “Do you really want to die here, Perkins? Give me something.”

          She grimaced. “Little Russia. It’s a church where Viggo keeps his stash.”

          In a dry tone, he responded, “Thank you.”

          She gave him another ‘Go to Hell’ look before he knocked her out by hitting her head with the gun. Still in a poised position, he sighed before his eyes turned to me.

          “That’s it?”

          His eyes narrowed. “What?”

          “You’re not going to kill her?”

          He shook his head. “She’s not worth it. Besides, I keep my word.”

          I gritted my teeth, stomping towards the knocked out girl. That same overwhelming anger drove me. I wanted blood – her blood, in particular. I raised the lamp, but John quickly hindered my movements, wrapping his arms around my waist. I bucked against him.

          “I’m gonna kill her, John! Don’t you dare stop me!”

          “This isn’t the time or place.”

          “She killed Aurelio! Right in front of my eyes!” I shrieked, tears streaming down my cheeks.

          I felt John freeze, but he didn’t release me. With his lips against my ear, he started, “China, don’t-”

          His words were interrupted by a click of a gun. Both John and I froze.

          “Do I know you?” The voice asked.

          John cocked his head. “I think so.” He raised his hands slowly before we both turned around to see a man that seemed to be in his early fifties. Like John, he was in his boxers and a T-shirt. He had the gun poised at a low angle.

          “Hey, John.”

          “Hey, Harry.”

          “Everythin’ alright?”

          “Yeah.”

          “Well, I’ll leave you to it,” he said as he began to retreat back into his room.

          “Hey, Harry. You keen on making a coin? Babysit a sleeping one?”

          “Catch and release?”

          Single nod from John. Harry came out with some rope and hand-cuffs before he started to bind Perkins. As he lugged her over his shoulder, John gave him a gold coin. With that, John and I went back into the room. John inspected the room, releasing a sigh before his eyes shot to me.

          “You ok?”

          I nodded, refusing to meet his eyes. He came closer. His warm hands shot out and gently cupped my chin as he tilted my head up. My eyes met his as he inspected my face.

          “She got you pretty good.”

          “She got you, too,” I replied.

          His lips pulled into a ghost of a smile. He pulled me into the bathroom, soaking a rag before raising it to dab at my face. He cleaned up the blood that pooled around my nose. My nose was still tender, but I was more focused on John.

          “I didn’t know you had it in you. I guess it was all those self-defense classes,” he said with a hint of teasing in his tone.

          I scoffed. “More like rage.”

          “Yeah, that’ll do the trick.” There was silence before he pulled the rag back. “China, look at me.”

          I hesitated for a moment before lifting my eyes to him. “Don’t ever do that again.”

          “What?”

          “Don’t taint your hands with murder. If you do, it will never stop with just one.” He shook his head. “You’re too pure for that.”

          My lips parted, and I felt that same wanting again. I wanted to be close to him. I didn’t know how to express it, and that frustrated me even more.

          All of a sudden there was another click of a gun. John tugged me to him as he glanced over his shoulder. My hands were against his chest as he held me protectively. His gun was raised at whoever the intruder was.

          When I glanced over his shoulder, relief and joy filled my entire body. Tears sprung to my eyes as I pulled myself from John and shot myself into the arms of the person. “Dad,” I choked.

          “China,” he breathed, wrapping his arms around me. He gently pushed me back, inspecting me. “How?” That was the only word he managed out as he gazed at me with bewildered eyes.

          “I set out to leave when the accident happened. I was going to move away. It got around that I had died, so I left it that way. I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble; I’ve been trying to find you.”

          He shook his head with a small smile He had a couple of wrinkles, but his hair still hadn't grayed. However, he didn't look much different, even though he was in his early sixties. “No, China. You did well. It’s my fault. I didn’t look harder for you. I'm just so happy that you're alive.”

          With a watery smile, I hugged him again. We finally parted as Dad turned his gaze back to John. “How did you two end up together?”

          “Dumb luck,” John murmured.

          “Seems to always be the answer.”

          John’s eyes turned back to me. “Well, it seems that you’ve found him.” He turned back to Dad. “Well, I guess we’re even now.”

          Marcus tilted his head. “Viggo had a contract on you. He came to me and offered it to me.”

          “You accepted.”

          Single nod from Dad.

          “Well, are you gonna kill me?”

          “No. That would be irrational. Besides, like you said, we’re even.” He adjusted his sniper. “However, I do think you would be foolish to go in this alone.”

          “I’ll be fine.”

          “John, you’re highly trained, but you’re not immortal.”

          John was silent.

          “I know you’re dealing with some… things, but I’m sure whoever you’re fighting for wouldn’t want you to be so irrational.”

          “I can handle myself.” John started to walk off.

          “Wait,” I called.

          He instantly froze, but he didn’t turn around. “Little Russia. That’s your plan. What are you gonna do if they come there?”

          “I’ll figure something out.”

          “John, quit being stubborn! You’re one man.” I said, stalking up to him. At my short height, I did stand at a height disadvantage.

          “They’ll kill you if they get the chance. I know you have a strong will, but you’re still injured.”

          No response.

          I grasped John’s hand, and in a lower voice I said, “In some messed up way, we’re your family, John. Let us help you.”

          His eyes studied me, but he didn’t say anything. Finally, he yanked his hand away, turning his gaze to Dad.

          “Fine, but don’t get yourself killed for me.”

          Dad smirked. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

         


	6. Night Five

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I know. I am a horrible person. I have been promising an update for a long time, and I haven't been delivering updates. I am super busy with life, though. Anyway, here is the next chapter. Of course, like the time in the movie, the book is slowly coming to an end. Songs used in this chapter are "Search and Destroy" by 30 Seconds to Mars and "Narcissistic Cannibal" by EarlyRise. 
> 
> I have half of the next chapter done, and I will try to get it out as soon as possible!  
> Thank you all for reading this story!  
> Let me know what you think! I love hearing from you guys.

 

          Morning didn’t take too long to come. After John, Perkins, and I destroyed the room, John was relocated to another suite, complements of the hotel. I fought sleep for so long. I had so much to talk to Dad about. I wanted to talk about Aurelio; I wanted to check out the flash drive.

          As if Dad knew, he stopped me when my words were becoming tired. “Sleep, China. We’ll have plenty of time to talk.”

          With a sleepy smile, I had nodded, given him a hug, and wished John goodnight. John didn’t say much after we had that discussion.

          When I woke, John was gone. Dad was sitting at the table, drinking coffee and reading the newspaper. “Morning,” he greeted, taking a sip from the mug with the hotel’s logo on it.

          “Morning,” I replied, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I glanced around. “Where’s John?”

          “He left earlier.”

          My eyes widened. “We – we need to go then,” I rushed out.

          Dad didn’t move. He just kept on enjoying his coffee and reading the paper as I started rushing around like a chicken with its head chopped off.

          “There’s no need. He said he wanted to go alone.”

          “But, Dad-”                                                           

          He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. Relax.” He set his mug down. “They came with room service earlier, but I was thinking we could go out and grab a bite. It would certainly give us time to catch up.”

          My jaw dropped. What happened? Dad was usually too paranoid for his own good. “But, aren’t you undercover?”

          “I haven’t seen my daughter in twelve years. So, if someone wants to keep me from having a bite and catching up with her,” he started, folding up the paper and tossing it onto the table top. “It’ll be over my dead body.”

          I quirked a brow. “What about John?”

          He glanced at his watch. “We have plenty of time before he’ll need us. Besides, he wanted to go by himself. So, in the meantime, we’ll let him learn from his stubbornness.” He rose to his feet, adjusting his jacket. “By the way, I sent out for some clothes for you, considering those are torn and… bloody,” he hesitated to say.

          I dumbly looked over at the clothes that were sitting on the dresser. There was a gray, long-sleeved top and jeans. I took them and went into the bathroom to quickly wash off. I then pulled my wet hair up into a loose bun and put on the clothes. Even though Dad said to take my time, I still rushed. I mean for crying out loud John was going to kill a bunch of people in a fake church. Who knows what could happen? However, Dad didn’t seem too worried.

          I finally came out, and Dad and I departed to a small coffee shop – very low key. It was a cute little shop, but Dad definitely looked out of place here. I can only imagine what John would look like here. A small smirk spread across my lips at the idea.

          “Can I take your order?” the bubbly cashier asked.

          Dad nudged me. “Um, may I get the berry mix muffin and a bottle of water?”

          “Sure thing, and for you, sir?”

          Dad’s eyes raked over the pastry display. “I’ll have the banana-nut muffin and a cup of coffee.”

          “How would you like your coffee, sir?”

          “Black.”

          With that the cashier went off the gather the items. When she turned around, I made a face. “Black coffee?”

          “It’s good for you,” he said.

          “Whatever you say.”

          He chuckled. We collected our food and paid the cashier before picking out a spot in the back. For awhile we only picked at our food, making small comments here and there. Finally, Dad spoke up.

          “So, what have you been up to?”

          I shrugged. “There’s not much to tell. I’ve just been looking for you.”

          He raised a brow. “No boyfriend?”

          I shook my head. “I never had the time.”

          He smirked, leaning back in his chair. “Well, that means I won’t have to kill anyone.” He wiped his hands on a napkin. “What about your schooling? I recall that you were an honor student.”

I shifted my eyes down to my water. “I quit. I thought it might be… safer.”

He frowned, but he didn’t scold me like I thought he would. “China, I do not regret us finding each other, but I wish you wouldn’t have thrown your life away.”

I shook my head. “I didn’t throw my life away, Dad. I found you.”

“Yes, but what now?”

His question took me off guard, but realization hit me. Dad would never be able to throw his job away. Just like John, he couldn’t walk away from it. It was something he knew. I was his daughter. I knew he loved me, but he couldn’t throw his life away because I wouldn’t always be there. And, it would be selfish of me to ever ask that of him.

“I – I don’t know. I just thought that when I found you that… everything would fall into place. I guess… I guess I thought that I would receive closure or something. I mean, we were tossed out of each other’s lives. Mom was killed. Everything just happened, and I didn’t know what to do.” I shrugged. “I see it was a little childish of me.”

Dad gave me a small smile, clasping both of my hands. His greenish eyes met mine. “China, this life is fleeting. You won’t get another one; you can’t dwell on your mistakes. You can’t let your past control your future. Trust me; I learned that the hard way.” His smile slowly faded to a serious expression. “I didn’t mean to leave you alone, China. I thought I was protecting you. Guess I was wrong.” He let out a laugh before looking off.

“When I found out that I had a daughter, I panicked. I didn’t know what to do. My first instinct was to change my name and to move off. Change is what I have always known. Having a child would’ve meant stability and that scared the hell out of me. I wasn’t necessarily afraid for my well-being, but I was scared for yours. As you can see, killing is what I know, and that’s not a healthy environment to raise a child in.” He shook his head. “But, as soon as I saw you, I knew that my life would never be the same. As soon as I saw you, I knew I wouldn’t be able to go on without you, especially after seeing how your mother was becoming. I wanted nothing more than to keep you safe.” A scoff left his lips. “Guess I do have paternal instinct after all.”

He took a sip of his coffee. “When John informed me of that night, I was reminded of that fear. John’s idea suddenly didn’t seem ridiculous. It seemed necessary. I thought if no one could connect us, then you would be safe. However, I still had John to keep tabs on you.” He sighed. “But, after the incident, I thought you had died. I went livid. I was so angry at the men that did it… at John… and myself.”

His eyes returned to me. “I lived with so much hate for a good friend just because I was too stubborn. _I_ didn’t look hard enough for you. _I_ didn’t personally look after you. _I_ didn’t keep you. _I_ didn’t get to finish raising you. It took many years for me to come to terms that they were all my mistakes.” He tightened his hold. “But, don’t let my mistakes ruin you.”

His lips pulled into a smile. “Besides, to the rest of the world, you’re dead. You changed your name – well, mostly. You could’ve started over, China. You could’ve done anything, and you still can.”

“It won’t be easy,” I murmured, taking a sip of my water.

Dad furrowed his brows at me. “If it was, I wouldn’t let you do it.”

We shared a smile.

“Fair enough.” I shrugged. “Maybe I should go into your field.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Maybe not the killing part,” I murmured with a smile. “Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“How could I? Your safety was top priority. Plus, I didn’t want you to lose that image of me you had created. After all, you were and still are just a young mind.”

“I’m twenty-six oyears old, Dad.”

“Exactly. You’re still a puppy.”

I smirked. “Since when have you become so philosophical?”

“Since I hit the big 5-0.”

“Gosh, you’ve really done yourself in,” I mocked.

He rolled his eyes. “I still have another couple of months until I hit sixty. That’s when it’ll all go downhill,” he murmured.

We talked about other things until I realized that I would have to breakdown and tell Dad about Aurelio. I had to talk to him about the flash drive. “Dad, Aurelio…” I bit my bottom lip. “He was killed yesterday.”

“What?”

“I was there. He was shot by some woman – the same one that attacked John last night.”

“Ms. Perkins.” He grimaced. “Yes, I am acquainted with her.”

I leaned in closer. I pulled out the flash drive and held it between us. “He gave me this.”

Dad quickly covered my hands as someone passed by. Once they were gone, he uncovered my hands. “Have you looked at it?”

I shook my head. “With everything that has happened, I haven’t had a chance.”

Dad nodded. “Well, if Aurelio gave it to you, I would advise you to keep good hold onto it. He had some dirt on some very important people. In his job, information always got around.”

I nodded.

He leaned in closer. “And, China, if something was to ever happen to me,” he started, looking me in the eye. “Destroy it.”

His words took me off guard for a moment. “Dad, I just found you. I don’t want to think about that kind of stuff.”

He tilted his head. “Just… do that for me, China. Please.”

I finally nodded. “Ok.”

Dad leaned back in his chair, releasing my hand. His eyes flicked down to his watch. “Well, I guess we should be going. He should need us right about now.”

Twenty minutes later, Dad was setting up his prized gun on top of a building that overlooked an abandoned warehouse. From where we were, we had a good view of what was going on. Dad kept tabs through his scope, and I watched through the binoculars he had given me.

John was tied to a chair. He had a cut on the right side of his forehead, but other than that, he just seemed a little haggard. Viggo and John were talking. Viggo started out sitting in his chair. Before long, he was all in John’s face.

While Dad seemed to be waiting for the opportune moment, I heard him grumble something. “Why couldn’t Viggo just keep his own on a leash?”

“Dad? Why is John after them?”

“Let’s just say that Viggo’s son happened to mess with the wrong person. He didn’t have the best timing, either. A few days after John’s wife died, in fact.”

Something twisted in me. “I read up that John had a wife.”

“He retired for her. John rid Viggo of competition. In return, Viggo was to leave him alone. John got out.”

My lips parted. “And, Ioseph violated that agreement.”

Single nod from Dad.

_Poor John._

          My attention returned to the scene before me as John began to become livid, rising from his chair. He was ready to kill. However, his attempts were stopped by two men. One threw a bag over his head, slowly starting to suffocate him.

          “Dad,” I warned.

          “Wait.”

          John struggled, but his movements began to slow.

          I began to panic. John was going to die. “Dad!” I cried.

          Before I could get the cry out, a gunshot pierced the air, hitting the man on John’s right. John charged at the other man, and they began to fight. In the meantime, Dad cocked his gun as he slowly brought it down.

          “He should be able to handle the rest.”

          My eyes turned back to John as I waited. I was on edge. I didn’t like just sitting here and doing nothing while John had to fend for his own. I knew he was capable of it, but I didn’t want him to get hurt.

          John struggled for some time, for it was the same man from the club. However, John finally was able to get his cuffs around the man’s neck.

          “You can look away,” Dad murmured, urging me to do so.

          I shook my head. I couldn’t. I needed to accept that this is what Dad was. This is what John was. As hard as it was, I kept my eyes on the scene before me, spectating as the life drained from the man’s eyes.

          I tried to tell myself that it was ok. I tried to tell myself that the man had probably killed many people. He would’ve killed John, too. Still, it wasn’t any easier to accept it.

          Swallowing a lump, I watched as John shot out the doors, barely missing Viggo’s car as it started to speed off. In the meantime, Dad began to dismantle his gun. We changed view points to find John jumping onto the hood of the crashed car, shooting up the front glass.

          Viggo got out of the car with his hands up. John was in a do-not-screw-with-me mood as he pointed the gun at Viggo. The gun was cocked and ready to go, and John was a little too trigger happy. Viggo knew that, too.

          Dad pulled up a device that tuned in to their conversation. There was static for a moment before I could hear Viggo giving John an address.

          “They know you’re coming.”

          “Of course, but it won’t matter.

          With that, John stalked off. Dad and I took that as our cue to leave. We followed didn’t follow John. I wanted to ask why, but I think Dad didn’t want me to see anymore for today.

          Instead, Dad took me to the Brooklyn Bridge. On our way, Dad got a cup of coffee for himself and a cup of hot chocolate for me. He handed me mine as we came to the bridge.

          “Here, this will help keep you warm.”

          I murmured a thank you as I took the drink. Dad took several sips of his coffee, not even flinching even though I’m pretty sure it was still steaming hot. I, on the other hand, couldn’t bring myself to take one sip. In fact, I had become lost in my own thoughts as I gazed out at the water and the city in the distance.

          “No doubt he’ll be around soon,” Dad spoke up as he tapped his shoe against the iron.

          I didn’t say anything. I knew he was talking about John, and that seemed to be where all my thoughts remained. A part of me wanted something with John; it was the same feeling from when I was younger. Yet, after everything I’ve seen, I realized that killing was natural for John.

          Would he be able to kill me? Just like that… not even blink an eye? Even if he did accept me, how would anything work between us? Hell, how would I work? I was still figuring myself out; I was still figuring what I would do after all of this.

          “China?”

          I snapped out of my thought and turned to Dad.

          “Something’s troubling you.”

          I was silent for a moment before letting out a humorless laugh as I buried my face in my cold hands. “Many things are troubling me.” I glanced up and started to try to put everything into words. However, I found that I could not.

          “I know.” Dad leaned against the rail with his eyes on me. “You’re concerned about life. You’re concerned about your next step in this world. You’re worried about everything you’ve seen these past days. And, you’re worried about your feelings for John.”

          By the time he finished, I just stood there with my mouth hanging open. “How can you do that? How can you just look at me and know?”

          Dad flashed me a grin. “It’s my job. You’re my daughter.”

          I giggled, dragging my hand over my face. “You’re right, Dad. I just… don’t know. How can I possibly create a life for myself when I’ve seen all of this?”

          “John once asked me the same thing, and I am going to tell you the same thing that I told him. You take everything a day at a time. Don’t try to forget about what this life offers because it’ll make it harder. Just try to not think about it; focus on the things that make you happy. You’ll wake up one day, and you’ll find that you won’t have to try. It’ll just become natural.”

          I let his words sink in, lowering my eyes to the iron rail. That was the problem, though. I wanted to have a normal life, but I wanted it with John. But, that would never happen. For crying out loud, he just lost his wife. John only saw me as a child. Even if something did happen between us, I don’t think he could ever leave behind this life. It was who he was.

          “China, I know how you feel about John. I’ve known before you probably ever figured it out.” Dad sighed. “And, I know John feels something for you, too. He denies it just like you do.” He glanced across the water. “But, as your father, I can’t say that I approve of it. John’s in a rough place right now. He’s trying to find out what to do now that his “reason” has left him. If you were to be with John, you would be in danger. If John lost you, I’m afraid he would snap, and there would be no return for him.” Dad gave a shake of his head. “I don’t want anything to happen to you, and I don’t want John to lose that small hope in him.” He placed both hands on my shoulders. “The choice is yours, China. It’s your life. But, I don’t want to see you hurt.”

          I lowered my eyes. I knew what I would have to do. If something happened to me, it would be hard on Dad, too. Dad was keeping everyone’s best interest in mind.

          “How many times do I have to save your ass?” my dad asked someone that was coming closer.

          I didn’t turn around because I knew who it was. Sure enough, I heard his low voice reply.

          “I appreciate it.”

          “You look tired.”

          I heard the humor in John’s voice. “No, I look retired.”

          “Retired? You really believe that?” Dad asked.

          There was no response. Consequently, I broke down and finally turned around to gage John’s expression. To my astonishment, John was glancing at me. Our eyes met, but I quickly looked away.

          Dad watched John. “You made a new life.” Dad turned his gaze towards me. “You’ll find your way back.” He patted John on the back. “It’s time to go home.”

          Dad glanced at me. “I’m gonna go get some more coffee.”

          With that, Dad took his leave. Coffee my foot. Knowing that I couldn’t delay it any longer, I turned my gaze up to John as he position himself in front of me.

          His face had several cuts, but they could never take away from his looks. If anything the ruggedness just added charm to him. His brown eyes were ever-piercing as they tried to find out my secrets.

          “Hey,” I finally said.

          A hint of a smile splayed at the edges of his lips. “Hey.”

          There was a round of silence between us before I leaned against the railing. John mimicked the action. For the longest time, we just gazed at the scene before us. I had long forgotten about the hot chocolate in my hands. By now, it was already affected by the cold weather.

          “So, what’s next for you?” I asked.

          John was silent for a moment. “Wherever life takes me, I guess.”

          I glanced at John from beneath my bangs. “Do you think you can go back to normal?”

          “I don’t know.” He glanced at me. “But, I can at least try.”

          Something in his words made me want to forget my decision. The look in his eyes made me want to forget everything. I wanted to act on those feelings that I had harbored for so long. And, that’s when it hit me.

          No matter what I did – no matter where I went, I would always feel these strong emotions for John. They were partially lust, for I wanted him badly. However, they were mostly need. I felt that I needed him. That he held a part of me, and if he was out of my life, I would be living without a piece of myself. No matter what Dad said, I knew my feelings were probably one-sided. John would never be able to feel for me completely. He would always see his wife before he saw me.

          I watched my fingers run across the cool iron rail. I made a new decision. I would admit my feelings to myself, but I couldn’t let myself act on them.

          “What about you?”

          “Me?” I smiled as I continued my task. “I’m gonna stumble through life and cause a bunch of trouble.” I lifted my eyes to catch the edges of his lips tip up.

          “I believe it,” he scoffed.

          Our eyes locked, and it seemed as if we held a silent conversation – as if we were explaining emotions without words. I couldn’t understand his, but I knew he would understand mine. For crying out loud, I practically put it out on the table and label it.

          He seemed to hesitate, as if he wanted to say something. Instead, he reached into the pocket of his suit jacket and handed me a phone. It was a burn phone, of course, and it seemed a little outdated.

          I raised a brow.

          “You're Marcus’ daughter; I know you don’t have a cell phone.” I couldn’t help but let out a giggle. “There’s only one number programmed into that phone. If anything ever happens…” He trailed off, gesturing towards the phone.

          A smile spread across my lips and I looked at the phone in my hands. I nodded before meeting his eyes. “Thank you. For everything.”

          He inclined his head. “Goodbye, China.”

          “Goodbye, John.”

          With that, he left, and I couldn’t help the single tear that rolled down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away as Dad’s voice sounded from behind me.

          “We should get going.”

          I turned around once I thought I had mustered my composure. Of course, Dad saw right through it. He frowned as he ran his eyes along my face. He didn’t say anything. Finally, he swallowed and nodded.

          “Come on. There’s something I wanna show you.”

 

          Thirty minutes later, Dad pulled up to a place that I hadn’t seen in a long time. When my eyes landed upon the place, I took in a sharp breath. When I exited the car with Dad, there was sadness in my heart as I looked upon the old farmhouse. It was the same farmhouse from that night when Sam attacked John and me.

          Then again, there was still some happiness in the place. Still, I did find happiness in it for some reason. I shook my head. “Why did you bring me here?”

          “I know this place has some bad memories for you. But, seeing as you’re going to need a home of your own to get you started on your new life – not a ratty apartment – I decided to give you the only property that in my name. And, as of this morning, it is now yours, Miss. China Priar.”

          I didn’t know what to say. Even though it had certain memories, I couldn’t believe Dad was giving it to me. “I – I don’t know what to say,” I exhaled in excitement.

          Dad broke into a grin. “Don’t say anything. Go and check out your new home.”

          When I came inside, I found that everything from my apartment had been moved to the house. My random painting that I had gotten from thrift stores hung from the walls. My living room suit was different, though. There was a brown couch sectional and coffee tables that accompanied it.

          I turned to Dad. “I might’ve added some things,” he explained, shrugging it off.

          I examined the rest of the house. When I came to the bathroom, I couldn’t go any further than the divider as I remembered that night. John’s lips against mine… the touch of his skin…

          I shook the memory away as I heard Dad’s voice behind me.

          “So, what do you think? Will it work?”

          Forcing all the memories out of my mind, I nodded. “It’s perfect, Dad. Thank you.”

          He nodded. “I’m glad you like it. Well, I’d love to stay, but I assume you’re tired. I’ll see myself out. I usually have dinner around half past seven. You’re more than welcomed to join me.”

          I nodded. “I’ll be there.” Throwing my arms around his neck, I held him tightly. “Thank you so much, Dad. For everything.”

          “Of course, China.”

          Dad saw his way out, and I was left to my house. I found all my clothes in boxes in my room. So, I began unpacking them all. Dad definitely got too many things. For one, I had way too much closet space, and I also had too much dresser drawer space.

          “Guess I’ll have enough space for new clothes,” I muttered as I finished up putting up clothes.

          As I began to change into a different pair of clothes, I fished out the flash drive that Aurelio had given me. I briefly thought about checking it out, but then I remembered what Dad had said earlier. I settled on not looking at it because it was almost seven-thirty. As a compromise, though, I tucked taped it to the bottom of my bedside table. Strange place, I know, but it was the only place I could think of to hide it.

          Grabbing my coat, I followed the directions that Dad had given me to get to his house. Ironically, it was very close to other houses. The whole neighborly vibe.

          When I came to the house, I found that Dad wouldn’t answer the door. At first, I thought that he wasn’t home, but I could see a light on inside. I tried the door, and I found that it was unlock. Strange…

          I stepped into the house. The first thing I noticed was grocery bags that had been dropped suddenly. Tomatoes and onions had rolled out of the bags and landed in different places. Opening the door wider, I found debris from smashed vases and other decorations. However, what caused me to freeze in my skin was my father’s bloody body on the bottom staircase.

          I didn’t know how to react at first. I blinked, hoping that this was only a nightmare. However, when the scene didn’t change, I realized that this was reality.

          Tears sprang to my eyes, and it felt like my body was shutting down as I fell to my knees beside my father. I choked out a cry as I hesitated to touch his bloody face. Through watery eyes, I gathered him in my arms and dry-sobbed. I was hysterical, hiccupping deep breaths – unable to breathe out. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

          “No, no, no, no! Come on, Dad. You’re – you’re going to be sixty in a couple of months. This isn’t supposed to happen! I just found you!” I pressed my hands over his bullet wounds, but there were too many.

          “Please! Come back to me, Daddy!” I nudged him several times. “You can’t do this to me!” I sobbed and buried my face in his chest. “Don’t leave me again.”

          My sobs were cut short when I heard a gun click. For the longest time, I just kept my head buried, refusing to move.

          “This her?” I heard a low voice. Viggo.

          “Yeah. That’s annoying Daddy’s girl.” Perkins.

          My jaw tightened before I lifted my head. I met Perkins’ snide gaze before turning to Viggo. “You… You killed him,” I snarled, darting up to bury my nails in his face. Before I could, I received a harsh slap to the side of my face. The force sent me toppling back and landing on my backside. I glanced up just in time to see Viggo lowering his hand. Meanwhile, Perkins had her gun ready to shoot me if she was given the order. Although, in my opinion, she seemed a little too trigger-happy.

          Viggo bent down to my level as I clutched my cheek. “Who do you think you are? To think you could talk to me,” he tsked. “However, if it is any consolation, I did not kill your father. His death was on his own hands. He signed his own death contract when he helped John Wick murder my son.”

          “Your son started all of this-”

          Another slap to the face. That blow almost knocked me out, but my stubbornness wouldn’t let me succumb to the hand of this swine.

          “Whether my son started this or not, I am determined to end this. Now, you’re going to help me.”

          “I’m not doing anything for you!” I spat.

          “Your life depends on it.”

          I tightened my jaw, refusing to back down. Viggo raised an amused brow. “Very well. Do it for John’s sake.” He pulled the burn phone that John had given me from my pocket. “Now, dial your savior.”


	7. Night Six

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, lovelies... This is the last chapter of John Wick until the new movies comes out. From the beginning, I knew I would have to have a sequel, considering that the actual movie sequel is not coming out until next year :,( Anywho, this is the last chapter of this book until the sequel comes out. 
> 
> Songs used for this chapter include "Blackout (Renholder Remix)" by Linkin Park and "Xerces" by Deftones (I suggest playing this song towards the end of the chapter). 
> 
> P.S. There will be a small epilogue that I will be releasing in a couple of moments. So, this isn't goodbye... yet.

 

(P.O.V Change)

  
I began my long drive home. Thoughts of my home filled my mind. It would be quiet. I would be greeted by a big, empty house, and I would be alone again. Honestly, this is the first time that I noticed how lonely my house seemed. It never used to bother me, but now, I found myself craving company – a certain someone’s presence. 

I shook the thought out of my head and began to head towards the interstate. However, as soon as I started getting close to it, my phone rang. Reaching into my pocket, I pulled out my phone.

“This is John,” I answered wearily. 

There was silence on the other end. 

“Hello?” I tried again. 

“John?” 

China. I noticed that her voice sounded a little weak. She sounded as if she had been crying. 

“China? What’s wrong?” No answer. I thought I had lost her. “China?”

I heard a heavy inhaling of breath. “They… they killed him, John,” she whispered. 

I began to slow down. “Who killed whom?”

“They killed him,” she repeated, her voice becoming shaky. 

I began to try to weave out of traffic. “Where are you?”

I heard a low voice in the background. 

“Who’s with you, China?”

“John,” I heard her groan before there were strange noises as if the phone was being snatched away. 

“I appreciate you seeing my son to his death.”

Viggo. 

“I wouldn’t know how to reply to that, either.” He took in a deep breath. “Marcus betrayed me in order to save your skin. So, ofcourse, I couldn’t let him let him go without consequence. I never imagined that I would have such luck and have his daughter fall right into my grasp.”

My jaw clenched as I tightened my grip on the wheel. 

“In fact, she reminds me of a waitress at one of my clubs, Red Circle. I believe you’re familiar with it.” His tone held a bit of humor. “I think she was one of the broads my son use to go after.” He scoffed. “Pity he couldn’t be here to have fun with her. I guess I’ll just have to… live to his memory.”

A growl escaped my lips, and my composure was thrown out the window. “If you put one finger on her-”

“Yes, I know. You’ll come for me. Then again, I have nothing left to loose, now do I, John?”

The line clicked off, and I did a U-turn in the middle of the street and sped towards Marcus’ house. 

As soon as I pulled up to the house, I jumped out of the car, leaving my headlights on. I approached the door, pulling my gun out in the process. When I came in, my eyes landed on Marcus’ dead body. 

For the longest time, I just stared. Slowly, I lowered myself to the staircase beside him. I knew Viggo had taken China. 

“You fool,” I muttered, bowing my head. I wasn’t sure if I was talking to Marcus or myself. 

My phone rang again, and in a daze, I lifted it to my ear as I kept my eyes on Marcus. 

“I know what you’re thinking, Jonathan.” Winston’s voice came from the phone. “We live by a code. So, I’m not the one that’s telling you that a helicopter is being fueled at a certain location.”

I closed the call and tucked the phone back into my pocket. “Don’t worry, old friend. I’ll get her back.”

Pure rage flooded through me as I raced towards the helicopter pad. I was going to finish this once and for all. I caught sight of the two black vehicles, and I pressed the pedal to the floor. 

Knowing perfectly well that Viggo had China in the car with him, I went for the second vehicle and pushed it off the ledge.

Next, I went after the primary vehicle that Viggo was in. Four other men were in there with him from what I could see.   
Before long, I had slammed the car against a small pole. Three of the men came out, and I shot them down from my car. Finally, Viggo’s right-hand-man stepped out with a gun. 

He shot at me, but I got a shot back at him before I rammed into him with my car. As soon as I took him out, Viggo slammed into my car and started to push it over the edge. I shot several shots at Viggo, barely missing him through the glass. Just as the car was almost pushed over, I was able to climb out where the back glass once was.

My teeth mashed together as I landed in a puddle of water. Son of a bitch. That car was brand new.   
I shot to my feet and raised my gun to check the inside of the car. Viggo wasn’t there, but in the back seat, I noticed a slender form in the fetal-position. China. I noticed that she was still breathing. Thank God. 

The sound of helicopter blades slicing through the air caught my attention. I pushed away from the car and noticed Viggo walking towards the helicopter. I quickly approached him. 

“No more bullets, John.”

I tossed my gun away. 

“Just you and me.”

“You and me,” I scoffed, raising my fists. 

Viggo swung out at me, missing. He got one blow in, but my blows outweighed his. As I pressed my arm against his throat, he gargled words at me. 

“What happened, John? We were professionals once – civilized.”

“Do I look civilized to you?” I spat.

“Indeed. It seems you’ve been corrupted by females. It’s a shame that you can’t keep them, though.”

I bellowed out a roar and flipped him over onto his back. He stumbled to his feet and pulled out a knife. Viggo, you never did play fair. He came at me with the knife, and I deflected him. However, in order to get the knife, I allowed him to stab me in the side of my abdomen. 

Pulling the knife out, I lodged it into his collarbone. He was sent back and grasped at the wound while I applied pressure to mine. We exchanged glances from our slouched positions.

“The girl,” he choked. “Your enemies will come for her if they know you care for her.” He nodded towards me. “You’re back in this game now. There’s no getting out now.” He heaved in a deep breath. “Be seeing you, John.”

I took in his words. As much as I hated it, he was right. “Be seeing you,” I replied before pushing myself to my feet. 

I hobbled back to the vehicle where China was. I got into the car and somehow ended up lying in the parking lot of an animal clinic. I heard Helen’s voice playing through the video on my phone. 

“Come on, John. Let’s go home.”

With a shaky hand, I pressed pause and pushed myself to my feet. Leaving the phone behind, I hobbled back to the car and gathered China’s limp body into my arms. 

She was very tiny. Her natural frame was curvy, but she was still a light weight. Still, with my blood loss, I struggled to walkwith her in my arms. However, I managed to walk without dropping her. 

I broke into the clinic, stumbling into an examination room with several dogs behind cages. I placed China on the examination table as I scrounged the cabinets for gauze and peroxide. 

Pouring the peroxide on my wound, I groaned at the stinging sensation before I raised a stapling gun to stitch up my wound. I dropped the stapling gun and clutched onto the edge of the examination table as I struggled with the pain. 

“John?” 

I snapped to attention when I heard the soft croak. I hovered over China as I took in her appearance. The right side of her temple was bleeding. Her cheek was bruised, and I could tell that she had been drugged. 

“I’m here,” I replied. 

She struggled to open her eyes, flinching at the bright lights. “Are you… ok?”

I felt the urge to burst into laughter. Only China could worry about someone else when she was in peril herself. “Don’t worry about me,” I told her. “Let’s take care of you first.”

She shook her head as I began to raise gauze to her cut head. “No.”

I hesitated. “China,” I warned. 

She shook her head. “No… You’ll… leave,” she whispered. “I don’t… want you to… leave.”

Her words tugged at something inside of me. She wasn’t going to make this easy for me. She made me forget Helen when I was with her, and I felt terrible for that. Not only that, but she made me remember when times were simpler. It seemed she always has a hold on me, and she can make me want to forget life and start over. When I was with her, I felt that I had a… home. Wherever she was, I could find a home as long as I was with her. 

Viggo’s words echoed in my head. “Your enemies will come after her if they know you care for her.”  
He was right. I could never have her in my life and keep her safe. 

Swallowing, I lowered my lips to her forehead. Her lips parted, but her eyes remained closed. “Please… Don’t leave,” she begged in her drug-induced state. 

Clenching my jaw, I slowly said, “When you wake up, you’re going to start over. You’re going to go to college; you’re going to follow your dreams. You’re going to marry a man that can give you a life that I can never give to you.” The thought of China with someone else pained me. It was a sickening feeling that outweighed the physical pain I was in. 

“You’re going to have a family. You’re going to be happy,” I stated, swallowing the lump in my throat. Dammit. “But, I will never be able to be a part of that.” I felt like my chest was going to collapse at any minute. I have killed many people; I have been with my wife as she died. I lost many things. But, losing China again has to be the hardest thing I have ever done. 

“But, I will always be near… watching over you.”

I pressed my lips against hers, and I felt her lips slowly comply with mine. I don’t know if she heard anything I said, but all I could focus on was her lips against mine. Our kiss was slow and agonizing. I wanted to savor this moment forever. I felt something wet against my cheeks and found that several tears were dotting her long lashes.

Hesitantly, I pulled away. Walking over to the phone on the wall, I dialed the emergency services. I gave the address and China’s condition. When they asked for my name, I hung up the phone. It was at that moment that my eyes landed on a brown Pit-bull pup. 

Putting a leash on the dog, I muttered, “Let’s go home.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~  ~~ ~  ~~ ~ ~ ~ ~  ~~ ~ ~  ~

 

Early the next morning, I came into China’s room with a bouquet of poppies (I had learned that they were her favorite about the third night after I had first met her). I set the bouquet on the table next to her bed. 

The sterile room was dimly lit and quiet. The only sounds in the room were the soft hum of the air conditioner and the machine that monitored China’s vitals. The police were still investigating what happened to China. Fortunately, her true identity was still kept a secret. 

I studied her as she slept. She had a couple of stitches in the side of her head, but besides that, she was just trying to pass the drugs out of her system. 

“You’re gonna have a long road ahead of you, China,” I sighed as I began to stand beside her bed. I took her cool, soft hand into mine. “But, so will I.” Stroking my calloused thumb over the back of her hand, I pressed my lips to her palm, noticing that her hand twitched at my touch. 

Inhaling deeply, I whispered, “Take care, China.”

 


	8. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is officially the last chapter of this book. I just wanted to let you see where our two characters will sort of be in the next book, although much action will occur, too. I cannot wait for the next movie to come out, and I cannot wait to see you guys (hopefully, you lovely readers will join me on the adventure and find out where China and John's story will end) in the next book. 
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading and your reviews. So, in the words of John Wick, "Be Seeing you." 
> 
> P.S: As corny as it is, I am using the song "With or Without You" by U2 because this song was playing on my phone when I was writing this chapter.

 

     From a bar across the street, I watched a woman clean tables outside of a pastry shop. Her long brown hair was pulled into a messy bun with twin chopsticks holding it together. She had on a white short-sleeved dress that reached her knees. A brown sweater vest was buttoned over the dress, and she wore a pair of brown flats. A bright blue apron spotted with remnants of flour was tied around her waist. 

     I watched as she stood on her tiptoes to reach certain areas of the table. She finally snapped to attention when she saw a customer coming close. She greeted them and welcomed them into the pastry building that was named in blue and red letters, ‘China Girl Sweets’. 

     She smiled as she took the person’s order, handed the person the pastry, and finally rang it up. The person left with a smile. Meanwhile the girl leaned over the counter, propping her head up on her hand. She blew a stray piece of hair away from her eyes before flicking her light brown eyes up. 

     For a moment, I thought she noticed me, for she tilted her head to the side. But, I remembered that the glass was darkly tinted and that her gaze was not on me. Instead, she was staring at my dog. The stubborn dog was determined to not leave my side, for he hovered near the glass where I sat with his front paws propped on the brick as he stood on his hind legs. 

     Really, I couldn’t find it in me to be frustrated at the dog despite his clinginess 

     Finally, the girl looked away and returned to her baking. I took that moment to leave the bar, leaving money beside my untouched drink as I left. When I came out, the dog was waiting for me. 

     His short tail wagged back and forth at my arrival. I grasped his leash and started walking homeward. Tomorrow, I would repeat the process.

_See you around, China **Priar.**_


	9. Sequel News

Hello, hello! Not a chapter, but there is some information pertaining to the sequel. 

Let me go ahead and say that I'm super pump for both sequels. I mean, it's almost embarrassing at how much I've been geeking out. (Morpheus and Neo unite. A possible pencil reference. And, we can't forget that snippet of tattooed back of ageless Keanu Reeves. I mean, seriously. Can we just take a moment to enjoy his aging?)

Anyway, I am hoping to get to see it this week. Afterwards, I'm gonna rope in my plot with the movie's plot, and have a lovely chapter up for you guys.

I also found out that the sequel is taking place about 5 days after the previous movie. That may provide a challenge, considering when I wrote the first book, I was expecting like a year gap. Oh well. If all else fails, there might be a slight amendment to the time gap.

Also, since John Wick is going to be taking place in Rome, I have decided that the sequel is going to be called When in Rome. Cliche, I know, but let's just roll with it.

I don't know how many readers I'll have coming back if any. Please know that any readers (new or old), comments, and feedback are much appreciated!

Thank you!

\----------------------------------------------  
Update: Sequel is out!

MissMechanicalHeart


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